


Expectations

by Waters



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: It Gets Better, M/M, Slow Build, apparently my version of small amount of Angst is a lot, small amount of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waters/pseuds/Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyoya had never wanted to be an artist, he certainly had never wanted to draw doujinshi of him and his friends and he definitely did not want to write a romance about himself and Tamaki. But then Kyoya didn't always get what he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who wants to talk to me? You sir? Come talk to me about literally anything. Story feedback is always great but if you just bought a goat and aren't sure what to do with it, I will listen. I also have a [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)

Kyoya had never expected to be good at art. At first, when presented with his choice of elective, Kyoya had leaned toward music. His mother had always loved music. She had been a brilliant pianist, guitarist, and violinist, and Kyoya had wanted to learn all the instruments she had played.

When his homeroom teacher had asked the class to consider their elective choice, Kyoya had been buzzing in his seat for the rest of the day. When he got home he had run straight to his mother’s disused music room, excited to finally have a legitimate reason to touch the grand piano.

His hands had hovered over the dusty keys as he breathed in, thinking about all the songs she had played him as the sat side by side on this bench. He had remembered how she smelt like chalk dust and dry erase markers, how her laugh sounded amidst the music, how she smiled when she was utterly adsorbed in a song.

After she had died most of the instruments had been cleared out of the room but not the grand piano. The entire room was emptied except for his mother’s favourite couch and this piano, things even this father could not see go.

Kyoya had been distantly aware that his father wouldn’t like him being in this room alone, but Kyoya was willing to risk his father’s anger just this once. For his mother.

He had printed off sheet music the day before, and had read it over and over recalling his sight-reading lessons with his mother. His fingers clenched and relaxed, and he promised himself then that he would do his mother’s memories proud.

He had seen her preform so many times, could appreciate the true beauty of music. He had lowered his fingers to the keys in excitement, in anticipation; hope bubbling up within.

He had been terrible.

 _God_ awful.

Kyoya had spent years by his mother’s side learning a fine appreciation for music, for what? Years practicing hearing pitch or recognizing composers musical style had been all for naught.

How could he honestly be so terrible?

He had practiced the whole night, the whole week. He had snuck out of his room in the middle of the night practicing the finger motions above the keys, too afraid to press down. He had practiced until his fingers hurt and he could barely hold a pen without his hand cramping. He practiced until his sister asked him if he was okay and Akito asked why he was tormenting everyone’s ears. But it didn't sound right. No matter what he did it just didn't sound  _right._

He expected his father to come, to tell him to stop playing around with the piano, or to insist they get a private tutor for Kyoya, or maybe, just maybe, to tell Kyoya he’d get better with practice.

But he never came, and Kyoya’s fingers were sore and his ears were ringing and he was still horrendous.

A failure.

When it came time to choose electives Kyoya resigned himself to visual art. He hadn’t been particularly good at visual art, but he couldn’t have been worse at it then he was at music.

Still he had practiced frequently, determined to at least be average. He had never expected to be any good. Certainly he did not expect to be the top student in his high school art class.

And he _really_ did not expect this conversation with Renge.

“Look at the movement,” Renge said as she held up a sketchbook. The Art Club and the Art Class were holding an art showcase with various pieces displayed around second floor ballroom. The pieces varied drastically in quality, but most of the parents and friends and siblings didn’t seem to mind. The showcase was anonymous and every artist’s name was kept off their work. Probably to prevent the worse students from embarrassment.

Renge waved the sketch around and flipped through its pages, almost oblivious to Kyoya. Kyoya sighed and looked around for Tamaki.

There weren’t supposed to be many people at the showcase this year, but Tamaki had caught on that Kyoya’s paintings would be here and had dragged the entire host club and all their fans with them. Now, the second floor ballroom was packed and Tamaki was nowhere in sight.

Renge stopped flipping through the sketchbook and showed Kyoya the page she had stopped on. Her eyes were alight, her hands clenched with excitement, and she looked ready to take on the world.

Kyoya was incredibly thankful works were anonymous or this conversation would be a lot more awkward.

“Kyoya-senpai! Look, the paneling, the timing, the _flow_.”

Kyoya was convinced Renge had no idea what she was talking about. She was probably just spouting random words. What did she know about art?

“We should definitely find this artist and get them to draw doujinshi for the club! I’ve been saying it for a while, but look!” She flipped through Kyoya’s sketchbook, finally landing on a comic of a female Tamaki flirting with various people.

“This is supposed to be anonymous, Renge.”

“Yes, but you have to know who’s style this is! You’re in the art class, aren’t you? Just ask around. You can’t pass up this opportunity not when this girl, or guy, captured the host club so well!” Renge spun around and Kyoya took a very deliberate step back.

“Think of the profit! Besides, it definitely gets around the idea of hiring a professional or adult to do it…” Renge trailed off.

Kyoya considered what she was asking, promptly dismissed it, then leaned away from her. “As a member of the host club, I cannot condone pornographic works featuring myself and—”

“No senpai, don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything is PG but the girls will still go crazy for it.” Renge’s eyes seemed to burn with near tangible flames.

Kyoya didn’t really want to have his conversation. Still, he smiled tried to relax his posture.

“I’ll see what I can do and have the artist e-mail you with their response, anonymously of course.” He smiled but the effort was painful.

Renge nodded satisfied. She took Kyoya’s sketchbook, and made a beeline for Haruhi who was trying to edge away from the crowd on the other side of the room.

Kyoya turned to look at his paintings, thinking of what Renge had said. He sighed and rubbed his shoulder. Was his work really that good?

No. This wasn’t the first time Renge had made a big deal over nothing, and she wasn’t the only one either. Tamaki had been begging Kyoya to see his paintings since Tamaki got wind of the art show. He had been pestered Kyoya nonstop until Kyoya agreed to personally point out which paintings he had done.

Kyoya couldn’t really see why Tamaki cared. One painting was just a landscape of an outdoor ice rink by a mountain, one was an impressionist piece of the Ouran campus, the other was of this very ballroom and none of it was of anything special. The only special one, the only painting Kyoya had ever done that had been truly _good_ , had been the portrait Kyoya had done of Tamaki, which Tamaki actually owned now. Perhaps Tamaki’s expected all Kyoya’s painting to be that quality? Kyoya frowned. If so Tamaki was going to be severely disappointed.

That portrait had taken Kyoya months to do and he’d ended up with five of them done anyway, unsure which was the best. The portrait unit had been worth the most after all and Kyoya was not going to settle for second best. Still, he it would illogical (not to mention _impossible_ ) to put that kind of effort into all his art.

At least Tamaki didn’t ask to see any of his other works. Kyoya scanned the crowd for Tamaki again. He caught a glimpse of blond but he faded quickly into the crowd.

Kyoya smiled tightly at people who walked by and hoped Tamaki was not trying to guess what other works Kyoya could have produced.

He noticed Haruhi give a bunch of girls the slip. Kyoya smiled and opened his notebook, flipping to the page on recent expenses.

Kyoya furrowed his eyebrows. Was the increase in profit from doujinshi sales worth more than what remained of his morals?

Kyoya considered it as Haruhi approached him. She wiped sweat off her brow, grimaced but then seemed to grow calmer when she caught sight of him.

“Are these the paintings you were going to show Tamaki-senpai?”

Kyoya nodded before pushing up his glasses.

“They’re really good.” Haruhi considered the paintings carefully. Of course she would think they were good; she hadn’t been trained all her life to appreciate art, to be cultured and understand real artwork from well-formed lines.

Haruhi smiled.

“I didn’t know you liked art so much.”

“I don’t.”

Haruhi looked at him and appeared to be deep in thought. “Anyone who can paint this well has to practice a lot, most people don’t practice things they don’t enjoy.”

Kyoya remained silent. Silence was something he was comfortable with, something that didn’t give himself away but didn’t force him to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

“I do think you’re really good. I mean it.” Haruhi spotted the Hitachiin brothers, sighed and quietly slipped back into the crowd. Hikaru paid Kyoya no mind and followed after Haruhi.

Kaoru looked from Kyoya to the paintings. “The ballroom one is pretty nice. Are we going to auction it off at the club? I’m sure the girls would pay a lot of money for something you painted.”

Many of the girls would pay a lot of money for Haruhi’s pencil.

“I’ll consider it.”

Kaoru frowned and followed after his brother.

Kyoya’s shoulders tightened as he waited. Kyoya frowned. There had been a reason he hadn’t intended to come to this ridiculous show in the first place but Tamaki had of course paid Kyoya’s reasons no mind.

Kyoya waited.

And waited.

And waited until the art show closed and Tamaki had not shown up. Tamaki must have seen the sketchbook Renge was waving everywhere (his public sketchbook, so he called it) but there was a lot of Kyoya’s other art on display, and another more personal sketchbook sitting in depths of Kyoya’s bag that Tamaki would not see.

Being at the art show had indeed been pointless.

Kyoya left ballroom and spotted Tamaki, exhausted but still trying to jog toward him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you, the girls were everywhere today. Who knew?”

Kyoya had known. Kyoya had in fact warned Tamaki of this exact thing.

“Besides, it’s not the girls fault, who could resist me?” Tamaki ran a hand through his hair and Kyoya wondered how long it would take to choke a person. “Let me make it up to you! We can go back your house and hang out!” Something must have shifted in Kyoya’s expression because Tamaki frowned.

Against his better judgment Kyoya agreed, because Kyoya always agreed no matter how stupid Tamaki’s plans were or how much he was against them.

It was sort of pathetic.

It might have been less pathetic had Tamaki managed to stay awake for the duration of the evening and actually ‘hang out’ with Kyoya as planned, but instead Tamaki collapsed on Kyoya’s bedroom couch the minute they arrived.

He was asleep within seconds.

Kyoya looked at his sleeping friend and wondered how out of line it would be sketch him. Taking a picture was certainly a grey area, but a sketch?

How much could he get for it?

Kyoya wondered.

 

Deciding to go ahead with the doujinshi and e-mail Renge was easy. Actually e-mailing her was not.

There had been several details about the process that he hadn’t considered.

Should he pretend to be a girl? Just ask for a lot of privacy? How soon was it to say that he wasn’t interested in drawing incest?

There were so many things that Kyoya wanted to get across but he had to take his time. Why was he always so impatient?

Then there were the things to consider from the producer side. Renge had talked about getting other artists to draw for the club but Kyoya wasn’t sure. He needed to maintain tight control over this situation. If he needed to shut their doujinshi sales down, well, it would be much easier with only one artist, especially if that artist was himself.

Kyoya also had to put in strict rules but having no graphic violence or explicit sexual content. All in all the there were a lot of issues to address.

 

Kyoya e-mailed her over the weekend as he worked on his physics homework and his self-portrait. He had done three self-portraits already but none of them were up to standard. He’d messed up the lighting in the first one, his jawline was too distorted in the second and his ears in the third had been asymmetrical.

It wasn’t until he had almost finished the fourth self-portrait that he remembered Kita.

Kita, the girl who sat beside him in art class, had a habit of looking at all the work Kyoya turned in. Usually she rolled her eyes, and told him no one needed to do three version of the assignment.

Well that was all fine for people who could get it right on the first try wasn’t it?

She had a habit of looking at his work and had a high chance of recognizing Kyoya’s style’s if she ever saw the doujinshi. If Kita found out he was the one drawing the doujinshi, his father would find out soon enough no doubt.

Kyoya wondered if he could buy off her silence. Buying her off would cut into sales profit.

Maybe he could just explain things?

No, that was ridiculous. When had honesty ever gotten him anywhere?

What he needed was blackmail. Mutually assured destruction should be enough to keep her from talking. He would have to do it himself of course. He couldn’t risk his father finding out about this.

His father would, well, his father would certainly not be _pleased_.

Kyoya looked down at his unfinished work. Kyoya took a deep breath and steeled himself. Was this really worth it?

Kyoya remembered the projected sales figures he had drawn up. With the extra profit, the budget for cosplay and events would increase by at least 32%. Tamaki would be thrilled.

The larger events meant more chances of parents coming, more opportunities for schmoozing and showcasing what Kyoya’s real talents were.

There was no doubt about it. No matter what it took, he’d have to find some dirt on Kita. It was the only way.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if this is a year old or three years old, come talk to me. I have a [tumbr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com) but of course you can talk to me here. Leave constructive feedback, praise your award winning horse, I am all ears

 

Kyoya found that drawing doujinshi of his friends’ lives was a lot easier than he thought. So far most of the things he had drawn had been short and lacking in romance. Kita hadn’t approached him yet.

He’d sent the pages to Renge who had promised the “anonymous artist” that she would take care of the mass production.

A few weeks later the host club was shown the first sample copy.

Club hours were finally over most of the club were gathering their things or looking over the doujinshi. Kyoya was still typing at his laptop going over his schedule for the rest of the week.

Mori and Honey had already looked over the doujinshi while the twins continued to skim it, eyes wide and glued to the pages.

“It’s…this is exactly like me.”

“How did they get our characterization down?”

“Could this girl tell us apart the entire time?”

Haruhi wasn’t interested in the dounjinshi and didn’t stick around. Renge followed after her, and the twins were too absorbed in the doujinshi to pester anyone. Which left Tamaki with no one left to bother.

No one except Kyoya.

“Kyo-ya, have you looked at the doujinshi?”

Kyoya nodded.

“I think it’s pretty funny, us interacting with a female version of ourselves from another universe. I was expecting something…I don’t know…” Tamaki shrugged and Kyoya merely went back to what he was doing.

If Kyoya shortened their hours on Thursday, would he have enough time to start on Renge’s next doujinshi idea? Maybe he should devote that time to his art class sketchbook or possibly reviewing for their math test. He was pretty confident in the math material, but it didn’t hurt to review. Maybe he should figure this out at home.

While everyone’s reactions to the dounjinshi were fairly positive and it didn’t seem like he’d have to influence them, it might still be better to see things through.

Kyoya kept typing and realized Tamaki had gone silent. He’d half expected his friend to continue rambling on, even with Kyoya ignoring him. Instead, Tamaki had pulled up a chair beside Kyoya and was resting his head on Kyoya’s shoulder.

He smelt like citrus shampoo.

Kyoya continued to type.

“What do you think of it? The dounjinshi?”

Kyoya shrugged and Tamaki’s head bounced on his shoulder.

“I bet you like it because it’ll bring the host club more money.” Kyoya could see Tamaki’s smile reflected on his laptop. “You know, speaking of art, you never did show me those paintings you did at the art showcase! I want to see them.”

“I can’t see why.”

Tamaki sat up straight.

“Well, the portrait you did of me was fantastic! So your other painting must be just as good.”

“I’m a amateur Tamaki, I’m not that good.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing.”

Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s smile widen even if he couldn’t see it. Kyoya sighed.

“You can have my paintings then. When I get them back at the end of the school year, if you can wait a month.”

Tamaki smiled and then launched into an impassioned speech. Kyoya watched Tamaki’s reflection on his laptop and tried not to smile.

“I just don’t understand. How could they know this? They have to be talking to someone…” Hikaru shook and head.

“HEY, KYOYA! Do you know who the artist is?”

“No, the artist wishes to remain anonymous. But I do get see the doujinshi before Renge, and I may have suggested a few _alterations_ to the story.” Kyoya smiled and looked up at the twins. Hikaru opened his mouth then closed it. Instead he turned to his twin to mutter something else.

Tamaki’s restarted his speech and Kyoya sighed. Things had gone better than expected.

With the host club’s approval, the first doujinshi would be printed off next week and sold. Renge had already e-mailed him several other story ideas. One of which was a small Mori/Honey piece. Kyoya wasn’t quite sure how to deal with writing romance about his friends.

When the first doujinshi sold, Kyoya was shocked. The sales were extraordinary, well beyond what Kyoya had anticipated and demand for others was high. Kyoya still held firm to his production rules (he had his friend’s comfort to think about and he wasn’t a complete monster) but it was tempting.

Or it might have been except for his extreme discomfort drawing anything remotely sexual.

Still, even cultured and respectful suggestions kept pouring in.

The sheer amount of everything he had to draw was nearly overwhelming and beyond even Kyoya’s scheduling abilities.

The second to last week of school the teacher had assigned a five-minute “action sketch” as she liked to call them. When Kyoya had turned his in, Kita had scoffed.

“Ootori finally does what the assignment requires, a sketch, and not 3 perfectly inked and shaded drawings. You’re slipping.” She had smiled and meant it good-naturedly but the dig felt too sharp and Kyoya wanted to punch her, if only a little bit.

Instead he had laughed and assured her he merely had a busy weekend. Kita had smiled. Kyoya’s stomach had twisted.  She hadn’t said anything about recognizing his art style yet, but it might be she hadn’t seen any of the doujinshi since she wasn’t a guest at the host club.

Still, she was right. Kyoya was slipping.

But not anymore.

Kyoya would have to be careful but these problems were all things he could control. He would merely have to rise to the challenge.

Kyoya was, after all, the king of control.

 

A few weeks into the new school year however, Kyoya’s control began to slip. It had started fairly simply with Renge’s latest doujinshi idea:

 

After the twins and Haruhi graduate from university Tamaki realizes they’ve drifted apart and wants everyone to get together again, like old times. Meanwhile, a mysterious love poem is found and Haruhi tries to figure out who’s behind it as Hikaru and Kaoru compete for his attentions.

 

The title _Getting the Band Back Together_ had been the easiest part of the story to come up with.

Everything else had come painstakingly slowly. Kyoya had tried to modify the story closer to real life, hoping that adding more realism everything would flow together.

It did not seem to help.  Sure, the details came easily.

Kyoya would have just gotten back from studying in America (at Harvard of course) the twins would have studied fashion abroad too, probably in France or Italy. Honey and Mori would still be keeping in touch, but everyone would be busy with their own lives, settling into their new roles in the world. Tamaki’s part was already so close the truth imagining it was simple.

The Honey/Mori can naturally to Kyoya by this point and the Kaoru/Haruhi/Hikaru love triangle was something he’d witnessed enough times himself to write believably but that wasn’t the problem.

It was the last pairing that was the most difficult.

Kyoya had imagined that writing himself in a pairing would be simple. He knew what he liked and what he would be like in a relationship, surely, and he wasn’t such a hypocrite that he’d write slash pairing of all his friends but not himself right? He wasn’t _that_ bad.

Going into this he thought that while tricky he would probably be able to pull off a Kyoya/Tamaki pairing.

Never had he been so wrong.

Kyoya lay on his bed, discarded English reading assignment beside him. He had to work this out. The sales were just too much not to and he wasn’t, he could take as well as he gave surely.

Kyoya rubbed his eyes. He still had a lot of other things to do: Finish reading _Jane Erye_ for English literature, his book report of _The Lake_ for normal literature, give his paintings to Tamaki, double check the host club financial numbers, look at how well his stocks were progressing, re-organize his desk, and finish last night’s homework. Yet he was still stuck thinking about the doujinshi. This useless doujinshi.

This useless doujinshi that might single-handedly increase profit by 23% rocketing their total increase in profits from the doujinshi sales to 68%.

Kyoya took a deep breath and tried to come at the pairing from another angle. It was fictional, it didn’t have to be just like real life. Forget figuring out how they’d get together, first he’d just worry about set-up. Once he had the set-up down, the rest should follow right?

Kyoya groaned. Why was this so hard? 

Why had he even agreed to this?

Was he so money hungry that he—

No. FOCUS!

Kyoya closed his eyes and thought about how he normally interacted with Tamaki.

It’s wasn’t so hard to imagine Tamaki flirting with him. Tamaki had done a lot of things that were pretty close to flirting so the actions weren’t hard. In fact there were a lot of examples.

Tamaki occasionally calling Kyoya his wife.

The constant hugging.

The handholding.

The smiling and winking.

The insistence that they share a bed whenever they sleep over.

Referring to himself and Kyoya as if they were married.

Arm linking.

Footsie. Especially under the kotatsu.

The list went on.

It also wasn’t hard to imagine how Tamaki might go about trying to win Kyoya’s affections.

The hard part was that Tamaki would have to realize he was in love with Kyoya in the first place. Which was unlikely, if not impossible.

Then there was Kyoya himself. What would he even do if he was in love with Tamaki?

The very idea was ridiculous. Ludicrous.

Kyoya could never afford to be in love with Tamaki in the first place. Besides, what was there to fall in love with? His honesty? Sincerity? Sure that made him a good friend, but you didn’t fall in love with someone because they were sincere. Right? People didn’t fall in love with Abraham Lincoln because he was honest.

Usually there was wooing and charming and handsome smiles, and while Tamaki had all of that, it, well, Kyoya just found those things annoying. All the girls’ attention he had received over the years, the coy smiles, the confident stares, everything in between, it had been annoying.

Tamaki was annoying.

Kyoya could deal with having an annoying friends. Kyoya wasn’t all that great himself once you got to know him, and having a friend who accepted you even when that friend knew you were an asshole, well that was invaluable, whether or not said friend was annoying.

But who would want to fall in love with such an annoying guy?

And even if Kyoya were to fall in love with Tamaki, what would the benefit of pursuing a relationship be? Especially compared to all the things it put at risk. Their friendship, their reputation. Their position in their families.

This whole thing was just too unbelievable.

He had e-mailed Renge about this but her response had been lackluster.

_I have had a lot of requests for pairing with Tamaki, and well, he certainly can’t be with Haruhi. Haruhi can do better. There’s not much of a choice really. Kyoya knows that this will lead to the most profits so it’s best we just accepts his word. You can take your time though. We’re still selling all the others and you’ve done a lot so take a break ;D!_

Kyoya really hated having his own words thrown back at him.

Kyoya opened his eyes and looked at his book beside him. Maybe reading would take his mind off of things, allow him to come with something later.

Kyoya picked up the book and began to read.

Screw this.

Kyoya got up and went to his desk. If he couldn’t overcome his weakness, then he’d play to his strengths. He’d flesh out the plot and other love triangle. He’d add realism and suspense and hide his weakness in the background like he always did.

Kyoya worked well into the night before he was satisfied with the story.

Right now fictional Kyoya’s PA had gotten the ball rolling with the haiku, Haruhi and the twins had found the love poem and Tamaki was trying and failing to plan a party while Kyoya worked himself too hard at work. The pairing would come later, while the plot developed and that would at least let things seem organic right?

Kyoya fell asleep imagining different ways Tamaki might flirt with him and woke up sore and exhausted.

He was fairly confident he hid it well though. His father hadn’t noticed anything at breakfast so surely no one at school would notice either. Kyoya got out of his car and approached the campus slowly. All he had to do was be extra careful of his well-constructed mask and nothing would seem out of place at all.

“Are you okay Kyoya? You don’t look well.” Tamaki called from across the lawn, jogging to Kyoya’s side. Kyoya frowned.

“You’re shoulders seem really tense, I could massage them if you want?” Tamaki hurried to keep pace with Kyoya as they walked inside.

“Not now.”

“Well, when we’re sitting.”

“That’s not necessary really.”

“But you look really tired.”

Kyoya smiled as a classmate walked past them down the hall. Tamaki linked their arms and pressed his weight against Kyoya’s side. He smelt different today. Like Eucalyptus and mint.

“You can tell me when if you’re not feeling well. How else am I supposed to know? I care about your health. It’s Father’s responsibility to make sure Mother is well.”

Kyoya almost rolled his eyes. Seriously, who would fall in love with this guy. No wonder the Kyoya/Tamaki set-up hadn’t gone anywhere yesterday.

Sure doujinshi Tamaki could flirt all he wanted, but doujinshi Kyoya (like any _reasonable_ person) was going to react like regular Kyoya.

With annoyance, possible confusion, irritation and at most concealed embarrassment and the certainty that he was misinterpreting the situation.

“I’m not your wife, Tamaki.” Kyoya gritted his teeth and tried to smile to the other students as the got to class. The room was only sparsely occupied and Kyoya wondered if he could rest his head for a few minutes.

“Well, of course you’re not _really_ my wife. The host club is still a family though, and it’s all allegorical you know, for instance, I’m _like_ a father to Haruhi even if I…”

Kyoya tuned him out and sat down at his desk. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Would resting now look weird? What would the other students think? Perhaps it was best just to pretend to listen to Tamaki’s inane prattle.

“And you said you were going to come home with me today?”

Kyoya’s froze and turned to Tamaki.

“What?”

“You said you were going to bring the painting over today.”

Ah, of course.

“Yes, I’ll have to pick the paintings up from my house, so I’ll head over later.”

Tamaki brightened.

“I can’t wait to see them!”

Kyoya nodded and let Tamaki carry on.

If he produced the doujinshi in instalments then maybe he would have more room to work on his Tamaki/Kyoya problems. He could play off fictional Tamaki and Kyoya not getting together as suspense.

He would have to talk to Renge about this. He would also have to finished his homework from two days ago and his English reading.

Kyoya considered all the things he had to do for the rest of the day until he got home.  He really wanted a nap, but he had promised Tamaki he’d stop by with the paintings.

Kyoya sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose and gathered his paintings. The trip to Tamaki’s house was uneventful as ever and Kyoya’s mind wandered to the doujinshi almost immediately. There had to be better way to approach it?

He should just take a break, enjoy spending time with his friend and then come home and finish his work.  The driver helped Kyoya take his paintings to the main mansion front door which door flew open before they’d even reach it. Tamaki burst out, smiling and nearly jumping up and down.

“Kyoya!” He nearly leapt right at Kyoya before taking the paintings away from Kyoya’s driver and scrambling back into the mansion. “I can’t wait to see them!” Tamaki bounded through the house towards his room and Kyoya followed. How could anyone fall in love with such an over excited puppy?

Not that anyone did anyway. People only fell in love with Tamaki’s princely act, just like people fell in love with Kyoya’s nice and polite act.

Tamaki was already halfway to his bedroom as Kyoya readjusted his grip on his paintings. How considerate of Tamaki, to just leave Kyoya alone struggling to keep up. That wasn’t exactly _new_ but it was still annoying.

By the time Kyoya got to Tamaki’s room he could already hear his best friend gushing.

“This one is so realistic! It must have taken you so long! Where did you find the time?” Tamaki was beaming and jumping up and down. “Can I really have them?” Tamaki smile was huge on his face and looked absolutely ridiculous.

“Why would I have brought them here otherwise?”

“You’re the best Kyoya!”

Tamaki threw his arms around Kyoya and squeezed with much more force than was necessary. Kyoya struggled to breath, inhaling a sickening amount of citrus realizing his friend must have washed his hair before Kyoya came over. He could still feel Tamaki’s sweaty hands on the back of his shirt, and Tamaki’s hair tickling his neck as Tamaki hugged him. Kyoya lowered the paintings he was holding gingerly to the floor and brought his hands up to Tamaki’s biceps, lightly pushing him away.

“It’s not like I have any use for these now anyway.”

Tamaki drew back briefly and the thought of leaning forward flickered through Kyoya’s mind. He chided himself. He’d spent too much time imaging scenarios for the doujinshi. He needed a break. He rubbed his shoulder, hoping Tamaki would offer a massage.

“Is your shoulder bothering you?”

Kyoya didn’t say anything.

“Here, let me help.” Tamaki gestured towards the bed and Kyoya sat down. Tamaki sat down beside him.

As Kyoya got his shoulders massaged he considered another angle for the doujinshi.

Maybe he should be more focused on Tamaki’s side of things, on him realizing his feelings.

But then, why would Tamaki fall for Kyoya anyway? Because they were friends?

Being friends wasn’t enough to make Kyoya fall for Tamaki and Tamaki was arguable the nicer, more charming of the two. And the better looking. And Kyoya was sort of an asshole.

Kyoya wanted to scream. This whole thing was too frustrating.

“You’re tense my friend.” Tamaki said as he dug his palms into Kyoya’s shoulders. Kyoya groaned. “You could always talk to me about it?”

Kyoya gave his best noncommittal grunt.

“I still can’t believe this is our last year.” Tamaki was probably smiling wistfully. Of course, Kyoya couldn’t exactly see him but it was evident from his tone. “Where do you think you’ll go after high school? I know you’re thinking of studying abroad, but I’ll miss you terribly. You could always just stay at Ouran with me.”

Kyoya opened his mouth to protest.

“Or better yet! I could go to wherever you’re going! I’d miss Haruhi though, and my mother maybe…but I could always fly to see them on the weekends…but no…I don’t know. Well maybe for a year or two…” Tamaki trailed of. “I know it’s important for you get into a good school, but I also think you need to make more friends! It’ll be good for you. _Real_ friends, I mean.”

Kyoya rolled his eyes. Making real friends didn’t exactly come easy to him. He had known Kaoru for three years and they were only just now becoming _real_ friends. But then there was Haruhi.

Maybe commoners were more accepting of personality defects.

Or maybe that was just Haruhi.

“I worry about you, you know. You always look out for me, and-and I try to look out for you, but it’s hard. You never tell what’s going on and even when I think I fix all the things I see, there could be so many other problems I’m missing.”

Kyoya didn’t really want to have this conversation now. He opted for silence and closed his eyes.

“I just want you to trust me”

Kyoya frowned. Of course he trusted Tamaki. Why wouldn’t he?

“Tamaki, if I didn’t look out for you who knows what kinds of terrible decisions you’d make. Quite frankly Tamaki, you don’t need to look out for me, I can take care of myself.”

“I, well that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

Kyoya could practically feel the pout in those words.

Could you fall in love with someone because they were always concerned about you? Because they offered you shoulder massages even though they were in a higher position that you? Because they were nice?

Maybe that was enough if you didn’t factor in everything else.

The constant invasion of personal space and boundaries, Tamaki’s stupid face and mood swings, his idiotic happy-go lucky ideas, his absolute denseness, the constant attention needed to prevent him from making bad decision, his vastly inappropriate physical contact and game suggestions. The fact that he still slept with a teddy bear, his sickening optimism, his constant meddling in other people’s personal affairs, his annoying tone of voice.

Surely that would dissuade anyone from falling for him. If any of the club guests knew what Tamaki was really like, he probably wouldn’t have any fans left. Maybe he should leave those parts out of the doujinshi? 

No, Tamaki would probably recognize that and be hurt.

Kyoya should enjoy the evening before Tamaki suggested a sleepover. Tamaki’s hands had moved to Kyoya’s mid back. Maybe this would be easier if he just lied down?

“What are you planning after this? I have to be home by ten so it better not be one of your dumbass movie marathons.” Kyoya could hear Tamaki chuckle.

“Disney movies are classic Kyoya. It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate classics.”

Kyoya turned around and saw Tamaki pouting while trying to fight back a smile.

Kyoya smiled in return.

“Cinderella is a terrible, terrible movie.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

Kyoya tried to pack the doujinshi chalk full of Tamaki’s outrageous attempts at flirtations, but fictional Kyoya’s reactions stalled any possible romance between them. Kyoya and Tamaki’s fictional counterpart were nowhere near kissing, or confessions ,or anything more than a held gaze, uncomfortable shifting and brief accidental touches. Which was pretty much where real life Kyoya and Tamaki were.

Minus the unspoken attraction of course.

Not that Tamaki wasn’t attractive, but Kyoya wasn’t attracted _to_ him.

Kyoya groaned and lightly hit his head on his desk. It had been three days and Kyoya still had not succeeded setting up the romantic relationship he needed. He had succeeded only in giving them far too much sexual tension. At least that’s what Renge said.

 _They have to_ do _something! It’s driving me crazy._

Kyoya wanted to rip all his pages up and laugh. But Renge had agreed to publish them in instalments and Kyoya needed the beginning pages for Chapter One. Kyoya suspected she had only agreed to publish it in chapters because she was trying to be nice. The very idea infuriated him.

Kyoya laid his head on this desk and tried to picture the scene he was currently working on, the Chapter One closer.

It was late at night; doujinshi Kyoya and Tamaki were chasing after Haruhi and the twins as surreptitiously as possible. Which was not surreptitious at all. Haruhi and the twins crossed the street into a park and Tamaki pulled Kyoya along by the hand.

It was the end of October and the leaves, all bright oranges and reds, were dull in the darkness. The air was crisp and cold and Kyoya was not dressed for the weather. Tamaki had accosted him right after work so Kyoya was still in a suit, ambling along into a park in the dead of night.

The things he did for Tamaki.

Kyoya could smell the ocean and hear the waves crash distantly as Tamaki hurried after the twins. They rushed into the park and heading down a wooded trail.

Tamaki’s hands were cold in his own but they were warm compared to the biting air. Kyoya shivered and rubbed his free hand over his arm.

“They must have come this way, I’m sure of it…”

“Tamaki, it’s late, we should head back. I—”

“The twins were acting much too secretive with our precious Haruhi, no, something is up!” Tamaki’s finger was posed in the air and he hurried further into the forest.

It wasn’t really necessary for Tamaki to still be holding his hand at this point but Kyoya didn’t mention it, or let go.

Tamaki’s hair glistened in the moonlight as the wind picked up. The salty air, warmer than the air inland, was nice, but Tamaki didn’t let Kyoya stand still to enjoy it. Instead, still smiling, he headed down another path, with more densely packed trees.

Kyoya found his lips turning up. This idiot. Kyoya shook his head. Tamaki pulled Kyoya along turning left and right, taking paths at random, Haruhi and the twins nowhere in sight.

Eventually they came to the shore, a rocky outcropping. Tamaki made a beeline for a little protrusion of rocks high off the ground. He stood on the edge and peered over the ocean and the shore looking for the twins or Haruhi.

Kyoya sat down. He was exhausted, cold, hungry, and no longer holding Tamaki’s hand.

“We’ve lost them.” Tamaki sighed. He flopped down next to Kyoya, but Kyoya looked up at the stars instead.

“I’m sorry for dragging you around for nothing.”

Kyoya blinked. It wasn’t for nothing.

Kyoya looked at Tamaki, then back up at the stars. Wasn’t there a saying or a quote he had heard once…”who took down the stars to cast their light in your smile”? Was that how it went? No, Kyoya was probably mixing something up.

Besides, that line of thinking…Kyoya wasn’t a romantic, didn’t care for sappy stories and played out lines. It wasn’t like Tamaki’s smile was all that great anyway. And saying something like that would go to his friend’s head immediately.

Tamaki was looking up at the stars too. The silence was nice. Their hands were side by side Kyoya shivered.

“Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

Kyoya shook his head but Tamaki was already taking off his coat and draping it over Kyoya.

“I missed you, you know. When you were studying overseas.”

“I know.”

“Did you miss me?” Tamaki bumped his knee against Kyoya’s and turned to look at him. Tamaki smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I suppose, as much as anymore can miss a complete moron.”

Tamaki only smiled wider and looked at Kyoya. Prolonged eyes contact wasn’t necessary, Kyoya told himself, but he couldn’t look away.

“I really did miss you. You’re-you’re my best friend, you know? You mean a lot to me.” Tamaki moved his hand to cover Kyoya’s and leaned closer. “You’re glasses are reflecting the starlight.”

So were Tamaki’s eyes, but Kyoya didn’t say anything. He stood still. He felt his heart race and his hands start to sweat.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours as heavy dread settled into Kyoya’s stomach. Tamaki was leaning in. He was so close.

Then suddenly he dived at Kyoya’s sides, tickling him. Kyoya burst out laughing. His laughter echoed and seemed to fill the lonely night air. When was the last time he had laughed this loud? Or at all?

Kyoya batted Tamaki’s hands away. He wrapped Tamaki’s coat closer around himself. Some of the dread from earlier was gone.

“You know, you’re cute when you laugh, even if you sound a little evil.” Tamaki beamed. Tamaki reached out a hand and adjusted Kyoya’s glasses, leaning in as he did so. He leaned in and leaned in and Kyoya wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Their lips would be cold and wet and it whouldn’t be anything specular. Maybe he would taste like salt since they were so close the ocean.

What about Haruhi? Wasn’t that who Tamaki was looking for?

But Haruhi was gone and Tamaki was here with Kyoya instead.

Tamaki’s hand was warm on Kyoya’s face and the moonlight shone in Tamaki’s eyes. A large part of Kyoya wanted to find out how far he could go. A larger part didn’t want to find out. Another part wanted to run and never find out how far he or Tamaki was willing to go. Tamaki leaned in closer and closer.

Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s breath on his cheek, hot and humid. What would happen if they kissed? What would it change? What would it be like to be together?

Tamaki was a hair’s width away and all Kyoya had to do was lean in.

Kyoya turned away.

“Dammnit!” Kyoya’s eyes snapped open and he hit his hand on his desk. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Kyoya rubbed his hand, adjusted his glasses and sighed.

It was no use.

Even his wildest daydream Kyoya couldn’t picture it.

Besides, hadn’t that seemed rushed? One minute fictional Kyoya and Tamaki are just talking and the next…no. It wasn’t Tamaki’s style anyway. If Tamaki was going to kiss someone, especially a first kiss, there would be a big parade. It would have BIG ROMANTIC GESTURE stamped across it, right?

Maybe Kyoya should ask.

No. That would be a terrible idea.

God, why was Kyoya so bad at this. It shouldn’t be so hard.

Unless, unless Kyoya was just some kind of worthless coward who never made a move on anyone ever. Someone who would wind up alone and loveless even when he was in love with someone who loved him back.

Or not quite so alone but in a loveless marriage where, even if he could cheat, he simply wouldn’t, not even because of anything so paltry as _morals_ but because he was just such a…

Kyoya shook his head and got up.

No.

Kyoya just liked to play things close to heart. He wasn’t stupid, though. If Tamaki were in love with him, Kyoya would figure it out. And if he figured it out then, well then that would be something. Kyoya would probably do something then.

But Tamaki was always flirting with everyone, wasn’t he?

So then how would Kyoya know? Would Tamaki have to realize his feelings for Kyoya before Kyoya realized them?

Maybe he should just take a break.

Kyoya sighed. He would finish this scene at least. No kissing though. Maybe he’d just end it with the glasses adjustment.

Kyoya spent the next couple of hours drawing and inking. The entire process was completely unrewarding. By the end he was so tired he decided he wouldn’t touch the doujinshi for another week.

Renge kept e-mailing him, both as himself, and as the anonymous artist, but Kyoya held firm on his break.

He still couldn’t get past the night ocean scene, but Renge seemed to think that was a great cliff-hanger and was thrilled with Kyoya’s choice to end it there. Kyoya kept e-mailing her about his concerns, but Renge did not seem to be taking them very seriously.

Her e-mail at the end of the week was nothing if not confusing.

 _Why didn’t you just say you wanted it to be slow-burn? I can definitely see that, that would make a lot of sense, who would fall for that idiotic ‘prince’_ quickly _. Maybe you could focus more on internal conflict then? There’s a lot in here already but if you have time it’ll be good, readers will_ love _to see someone so cool struggling!_

What did “slow-burn” even mean? And why would people want to see him struggling? That sounded horrible.

Kyoya was reading over his e-mail, thinking about his responses as he waited for his driver on Friday.

He spotted Tamaki out of the corner of his eye and looked up. Tamaki was jogging toward him, blond hair flying everywhere.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover this weekend. You seemed pretty stressed and I just, I just…” Tamaki scratched the back of his head.

Kyoya frowned. While this was not too bizarre for Tamaki, his uncertainty was questionable. Though, Kyoya _was_ pretty tired.

“I’m perfectly fine, Tamaki, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Of course I don’t _need_ to, I want to. We’re best friends, that’s what we do! I, I just want you to be okay.” Tamaki smiled.

 _“I care about you,”_ Kyoya wanted him to say it, for some ridiculous, ill-defined reason, but he didn’t.

“I have homework to do though.”

Tamaki beamed and linked their arms as Kyoya began to dial his driver’s number. “As long as we’re together, everything will be all right.”

Kyoya’s heart sped up, and his phone almost slipped from his grip. He wiped his palms on his sleeves. How was anyone supposed to tell if Tamaki was in love with them if he said things like that to his friends?

Yet, everyone else seemed to figure out Tamaki’s feelings for Haruhi well before Tamaki figured them out. Most of the hosts could see, even when Tamaki still thought she was a boy. Or maybe he had realized his feelings but just refused to admit them. No, that didn’t seem likely.

What would Tamaki be like if he knew he liked someone? Would that be very different to how he was now? Maybe that’s why it was hard to tell his intentions, Tamaki was always flirting with everyone, so of course you couldn’t notice a difference in flirtations if Tamaki himself couldn’t.

But once he did realize his feelings…

Surely he’d be better.

Or maybe he’d be worse.

Kyoya looked at Tamaki, who was still smiling. Tamaki held Kyoya’s forearm and leaned into his side, his weight a soft, but solid pressure.

“Aren’t you going to call?”

Kyoya stared at his phone and bit his lip.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave Feedback or come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm serious about the coming to talk to me part, here is my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com) but of course you can always just comment here. Leave constructive feedback!

 

Walking a dog together wasn’t something Kyoya would classify as “hanging out”, but Tamaki had different ideas.

The minute Kyoya had arrived at Tamaki’s, Antoinette had come bounding down the stairs and jumped up on Kyoya. She tried to lick his face despite his clear discomfort, but still Tamaki had thought, for some reason, that taking her for a walk would be the best start to their sleepover weekend.

Kyoya’s new plan to figure out how Tamaki would react once he realized he had feelings for someone seemed firmly on hold.

 “Don’t you have people to do this for you?”

Tamaki turned to Kyoya and blinked. Kyoya gestured to the leash and Antoinette as they continued down the sidewalk.

“Well usually someone comes with me, but I like walking Antoinette. Look how happy she looks.”

Sure enough Antoinette was wagging her tail excitedly as she sniffed various objects by the sidewalk.

“Besides, sometimes it’s nice to get moving, you know?”

Kyoya in fact didn’t know, but let Tamaki continue with his inane prattle for several more minutes.

“Tamaki.” Kyoya yawned. “If you had feelings for someone, what exactly would you do differently?”

Tamaki stopped, his eyes widened. The smile on his face was positively manic.

“YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEONE?!”

“What?! No!” Kyoya shook his head then adjusted his glasses. “I meant _you_ specifically. If _you_ really had feelings for a g…person, you wouldn’t use the same old host act on them would you? That seems…” Kyoya wanted to say ‘tacky’ but that would probably send Tamaki spiralling into one of his fits.

Kyoya paused. When was the last time Tamaki had gone into one of his mood swinging fits when it was only the two of them?

“I, well I would just be honest with my crush first! Probably. Maybe. I’d probably bring roses, or maybe a cake, no, a cake might seem like too much…” Tamaki scratched his chin. “Or…no…well if they confessed to me first that would be easiest but… you mean if I confess first? Hmmm. What would I wear? You know, I guess I haven’t—”

“It’s not important, Tamaki, forget I mentioned anything.”

Tamaki slowed down as they walked. “Is this about the doujinshi? _Getting the Band Back Together_?”

Kyoya’s blood froze.

“It, it’s pretty in character I guess. I wouldn’t probably act too differently than that, but I don’t think the situation there isn’t the same now. People aren’t going to think I have a crush on you _now._ ”

What was that supposed to mean? He should ask. No, no he shouldn’t. Asking would seem strange.

“It just didn’t seem very believable.” Kyoya rolled his shoulders. “To me at least.”

“Actually I thought the love triangle was really well done! I just hope it didn’t give those shady twins any ideas.” Tamaki narrowed his eyes and tapped a finger to his chin. “But see, in the doujinshi, you don’t really know what my feeling are, right? Is that what you’re saying? That it just seems like I’m acting like I normally do and that’d be weird if I was trying to seduce you or something.”

Kyoya paled. He opened his mouth and then closed it abruptly, adjusting his glasses and wishing he hadn’t said anything. He suddenly felt cold and wanted to cross his arms, but he resisted.

“Is the doujinshi making you uncomfortable?” Tamaki cocked his head the side. “Is _that_ why you’ve been so stressed out lately?” Tamaki smacked his fist into his palm. “That would explain a lot! You know, you could always ask the artist to stop having pairings with you, if it made you feel uncomfortable. I’m sure they would understand.” Tamaki smiled and Kyoya felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

“Never mind.”

“Kyoya—”

“Never mind.”

Kyoya down at Antoinette, who was tugging at her leash. They walked in silence.

Tamaki nudged Kyoya’s shoulder with his own as they stopped at a traffic light. Kyoya went from too cold to too warm. His stomach clenched, but Kyoya ignored it. He hadn’t been feeling well for the last few weeks, it was probably nothing serious.

Tamaki “bumped into” Kyoya had at least three more times as they were finally walking back.

The fourth time was too much.

“Is there something you want Tamaki?”

“I was thinking we could make ice cream when we got back, like the commoners do!”

Kyoya pictured an old woman churning butter. How was ice cream made anyway?

“I bought an ice cream machine too, and all we have to do is mix the ingredients and let it freeze.”

“You know I don’t care for sweets.” Kyoya folded his arms and looked at Tamaki from the corner of his eye. “Don’t you usually suggest movies whenever we have sleepovers?”

Tamaki sighed and gestured wildly, yanking Antoinette back a little.

“Whoops, sorry girl.” Tamaki stopped to ruffle Antoinette’s fur before turning to Kyoya. “I only suggest movies because that’s the only thing you agree to. You don’t like playing soccer, or watching soccer, or playing video games or talking about crushes or pillow fights or letting me paint your nails or anything else fun that happens at sleepovers!”

“Why would I let you paint my nails?”

“Well! It’s a sleepover thing.”

“Isn’t that usually more of a girl sleepover thing.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t want to do any of the guy ones.” Tamaki hmmed and rubbed his elbow. “What do you like to do then?”

“Read in silence.”

Tamaki made a half-strangled huffing noise.

“I’ll help you make ice cream then, I guess there are worse things, but I’m not going to eat it.”

Tamaki merely smiled and linked their arms and all the awkwardness of before was forgotten.

The ice cream didn’t take long to make, and it seemed barely any time had passed before Kyoya was sitting on Tamaki’s bed as Tamaki selected their movie.

“It takes an hour for the ice cream to freeze so we have to make sure the climax is way after that…” Tamaki murmured as he held two DVD cases to his face.

He was still dressed for their walk in a t-shirt and shorts. Kyoya couldn’t really remember seeing him wear anything like that before.

It seemed far too casual; even Tamaki’s pyjamas looked more formal. Kyoya leaned back on the bed. He watched Tamaki crouch in front of the TV that had been brought up just for tonight. There were at least a dozen DVD’s stacked right beside it and Tamaki flipped through them in earnest.

Tamaki wasn’t wearing any socks either, which was odd. Had Tamaki’s legged always been this toned? Did he shave or was his leg hair just too light to see?

Kyoya sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He ran a hand across his face then took a deep breath. The dread in the pit of his stomach had only settled and it made him uneasy.

He still hadn’t found any blackmail material on Kita yet. He’d have to get that done this week, certainly before chapter two went out, though that wasn’t going to happen soon.

Maybe he should just tell Renge he wouldn’t draw the pairing doujinshi. Or he wouldn’t sell them. The profits had been phenomenal, but the club could do without it. Kyoya bit his lip.

What was more important? Friendship or money?

“Kyoya, I was thinking of _L'histoire d'un Collectionneur._ It’s in French but it has Japanese subtitles. I thought it was very interesting, it, it’s supposed to be sort of scary though so I didn’t want to watch it alone.” Tamaki pressed his forefingers together and looked down at his hands.

Kyoya sat up.

He shrugged.

Tamaki leapt onto the bed and tackled him. He hugged Kyoya hard enough to bruise. Kyoya tried to breath though it was difficult.  Tamaki’s hair was tickling Kyoya’s neck again and Tamaki was radiating far too much body heat for Kyoya’s comfort.

“Mon ami, mon _meilleur_ ami! Tu es le plus grand!”

Kyoya wondered if Tamaki was going to tickle him.

Kyoya shoved Tamaki off the bed.

“No need to be melodramatic, it’s just a movie.” Kyoya walked over to the couch in front of the TV and sat down. He raised an eyebrow, looking from Tamaki to the TV. “Are we going to watch it or not?”

Tamaki put the DVD in, flopped down next to Kyoya and then for the next twenty minutes seemed unaware of Kyoya’s existence. Except for the occasional frightened arm grab or using Kyoya’s shoulder as a body shield between him and the TV screen.

Kyoya for his part wasn’t actually paying attention. Something made much easier by the language barrier.

He dispassionately watched a girl flee into the forest. Kyoya yawned. Tamaki’s grip on his arm tightened.

Now there was a shirtless guy with well-toned abs staring out a window. Then a close up on his eyes. He was probably saying something asinine like:

 _“The eyes are the windows to soul_.”

Why did every action hero in Western movies have a toned abdomen muscles anyway? What that really necessary? Was the bad guy going to make him do crunches? Arm muscles or leg muscles might come in handy when running or throwing a punch but what were the abs going to do? Seduce the villain?

Kyoya tried not to smile.

“ _Ah yes, Dr. Evil Guy, I know you have defeated my friends and I am helplessly cornered but have you considered my abs.”_

Kyoya smiled briefly and then frowned. Really he should be focusing on the doujinshi.

Tamaki made a high-pitched noise, not quite a whimper, and buried his face into Kyoya’s shoulder.

The girl from the forest was approaching a tree house.

Oh, now it was the abs guy again. Was he the star of this movie? Weren’t lead actors supposed to be attractive?

The girl was…all right.

Kyoya heard a sniffle and adjusted his glasses.

“Don’t get snot on my shirt.”

“I won’t!”

Kyoya smirked and turned back to the scream. Now there was some girl and…yep that was a naked guy, just walking toward this fully clothed girl, naked and apparently very well proportioned.

He, of course, also had abs. Kyoya rolled his eyes and wondered how much time would left until the ice cream was ready.

Kyoya closed his eyes. It shouldn’t be longer than 30 minutes. Maybe…20? 25?

Kyoya heard a scream and opened his eyes, but it was only naked man being dragged across a dark lawn towards…oh, that the tree house where forest girl had been.

Of course.

“When are we going to get the ice cream?”

“Huh?” Tamaki stared at him with eyes the size of saucers.

“The ice cream? You said it would take an hour to freeze?  When are we going to get it?”

“I-“ Tamaki tried to keep one eye on the screen as he was talking to Kyoya. He jumped suddenly and scrambled for the remote, pausing the scene where forest girl was running onto a deserted road.

“There’s still 15 minutes left I think.” Tamaki looked at his watch and then back up at Kyoya. “Are you enjoying the movie?”

“It…” Kyoya looked at Tamaki. “If it’s so scary why did you want to watch it?”

Tamaki shrugged. “It’s one of the movies my grandfather had, I thought it would be good.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses and looked back to the screen.

“Well then, let’s see how it ends.”

“Wait, I should probably get changed first. We’re going to be having dinner soon too.” Tamaki got off the couch and walked towards his closet, pulling of his T-shirt and shorts as he went.

Tamaki didn’t have abs. Or much upper body strength. He was pretty pale and slender until you got to his legs actually.

Wait, did Tamaki have freckles on his shoulders? How had Kyoya not noticed that?

Kyoya shifted uncomfortably. He turned back to the TV. He was definitely going to include shoulder freckles in the doujinshi. Even if he didn’t want to, it was too perfect a detail to leave out.

Kyoya tried not to feel bad. Even fifteen minutes later he tried to been calm and composed as Tamaki ate their ice cream and watched the movie. It didn’t really work. Kyoya still felt awful all the way through dinner and when they got ready for bed.

To make matters worse, there was still Saturday to look forward to. Then Sunday.

Kyoya lay beside Tamaki on the big king sized bed Tamaki insisted they share. Just small, innocuous, innocent, intimate details as Tamaki’s slight snores, the freckles on his shoulders, the way he closed one eye when thinking really hard about something. These were all just so uniquely, personally Tamaki and Kyoya was going to use them for profit.

But Tamaki used those details all the time.

Surely it wasn’t _that_ bad, the other hosts had agreed to being in doujinshi. So what if they didn’t know it was him, that didn’t make him…there were plenty of other things that made him a monster, threatening people, taking pleasure at other’s misfortune, wishing for other’s failure, but this small breach of trust was hardly the worst thing.

It wasn’t betrayal really.

It was just profit.

And while it might be a rude thing to do, certainly it wasn’t heinous, even to friends. And no one had ever said Kyoya was a good friend.

Kyoya bit his lip.

He wanted to be though, didn’t he? He wanted to be a good friend.

 

The next day Kyoya was dead tired and not at all up for whatever it was Tamaki had planned.

Soccer and then badminton and then cards and finally studying were exhausting. When Kyoya fell into Tamaki’s bed on Saturday night, he was beat.

Tamaki was asleep within seconds, but Kyoya was still awake, trying hard to sleep and failing. Like he always did. At this point it felt like he couldn’t even remember a getting a good night sleep in weeks.

Kyoya rolled over and looked at the back of Tamaki’s head. It was a foot and a half away from him. Tamaki’s chest rose slowly and Kyoya could hear the light snores already starting.

Kyoya turned again and pressed his face into his pillow.

He realized with a start that he hadn’t thought about the doujinshi all day. He hadn’t even decided what chapter two was even going to be about.

He had spent all of Friday night thinking of different angles to approach things. He’d been thinking about why, maybe he should have worried about how.

How was one someone supposed to seduce Tamaki Suoh? Haruhi didn’t really do much, just sort of ignored him, which wasn’t too different from what Kyoya did.

Maybe it was the occasional moments of honest praise? Was that what made Tamaki fall in love? Honesty? If he had Kyoya as a best friend that certainly seemed off.

But alright, assume fictional Kyoya had more honest “Haruhi moments.” Would that really be enough?

And then ignoring what Kyoya would do (which was nothing apparently, nothing, nothing, _nothing_ ) the thing to focus on was Tamaki, who was now in love with him.

Since Kyoya didn’t know what Tamaki would naturally do, perhaps he could just change that to what Kyoya would want him to do?

That way even if Tamaki’s actions weren’t in character, at least his success would be believable in getting Kyoya at least.

That made sense right?

But then, what would Kyoya want someone to do? He found most attempts at flirtation grating, he didn’t like sweets and wasn’t a fan of commoner activities or extravagant gestures.

Kyoya groaned.

How had his mother won over his father? If he recalled it had been her that had been courting him wasn’t it? But no… she failed the first time and then they were just friends and then… _something_ must have happened, right?

Best to just forget it then.

Kyoya took a deep breath and tried to imagine a scenario where someone might successfully woo him. It would have to take place at a private location. Maybe his house? No… the other one’s house.

Kyoya would come over and the two of them would probably eat dinner. Nothing would seem amiss.

The meal would have been prepared by a professional, not something homemade. They would eat in amicable silence and then… His Admirer would broach the topic of relationship.

A nice, smooth transitions. Something like:

“You know, there doesn’t seem to be anyone you’re interested in romantically, might I ask why?”

No, no, that would be too blunt.

“You know, you’re very handsome, most men would probably be surrounded by admirers,” his Admirer would say.

Kyoya would shrug. “I have better things to do with my time.”

His Admirer would smile. “So you aren’t interested in people, romantically?”

Kyoya would pause. “Not at the moment, no.”

“Ah, I suppose you would be interested if it benefited you?”

Kyoya would smile sip his tea or eat some more. Then his Admirer would…present a list of reasons why he should be interested? No. A power point presentations of the benefits of dating His Admirer? No.

Those would be too contrived. Too suspicious. It would be clear they wanted something from him.

Maybe…offer him a shoulder massage? Talk about how Kyoya should relax more and how relaxation would be beneficial? Ease into a hug, try to get Kyoya laughing and then…

“Romantic relationships aren’t for everyone, but there can be a lot of benefits: intimacy, security, emotional benefits.” Okay, maybe not those exact words. But something to that effect.

“They might, but there’s a high risk.” Kyoya might smile here. Maybe.

His Admirer would definitely smile. “High risk, high reward.”

His Admirer would hum, strong hands working into Kyoya’s shoulders as Kyoya considered it.

Dating for love seemed so…sentimental. It might be more of a benefit to simply marry for position. Kyoya would voice his opinion.

“Maybe, but it’s also logical to marry the person you love, or at least can get along with. Partnership is important in a relationship…”

No. That was too philosophical. Too much talking about relationships.

His risk, high reward and then…a kiss.

A small kiss and mere “think about it.”

His Admirer would clear the dishes himself. For privacy reasons no servants would be anywhere near them.

Kyoya would pause and think. By this point the two of them would have to have known each other for a while. Kyoya would already know the benefits that His Admirer would bring. Kyoya would know his strengths and weakness, whether or not Kyoya was physically attracted to him, whether they would make good…

Him?

Well, Kyoya supposed imaging a guy in this context made sense, since it had to be something Tamaki could pull off, but shouldn’t he be thinking about what would _really_ win him over?

Kyoya tried to reimagine the scene with a girl. It didn’t feel quite the same. It was… vague. No it had to be more concrete, he couldn’t picture any girl, it had to be a specific one.

He paused and considered some girls he thought were attractive. Kō Shibasaki? Hmm…well she was attractive, a very talented actress but that didn’t seem right. She was too...sure she was pretty but was Kyoya attracted to her? Kyoya thought of a few other women.

The actress Rina Ohta? Well, she was just, there was something missing.

The singer Tomomi Itano? There was no denying she was cute but…

There had to be other women he was actually attracted to right? He had to have felt attraction before? He must have surely.

Kyoya froze. Maybe he just didn’t experience sexual attraction. What was that word? Asexual? It would explain a lot, actually. But what about romance? He hadn't felt romantic attraction to girls, what did that mean?

The fact that he didn’t like girls flirting with him, or that he didn’t find them a lot of them attractive, (it took a while to call any to mind).  He also found the idea of spending time with most guests distasteful, but he enjoyed spending time with platonic female friends, like Haruhi.

That might also explain why he was having such a difficult time thinking of himself in romantic situations.

But surely he would have realized this before.

Or, Kyoya mused, he could be gay. Though that was unlikely. Besides, even though there weren’t a lot of girls he thought were attractive, he didn’t find a lot of guys attractive either.

Except the guy from the movie earlier.

And Tamaki, but that was a given.

Tohgouin’s older brother Natsuki.

Inoue from the soccer team.

His second year middle school math teacher.

Kyoya froze.

He would have _definitely_ realized this before.

He would have 100% percent realized if he was gay. He was not a complete idiot.

He _might_ have missed being asexual simply because it was hard to know you weren’t feeling something and because he never paid much attention to sex before. But being gay? No, there was no way he could miss that. There was simply no way.

Besides, maybe there were just more attractive guys around Kyoya. Just because he thought they were attractive didn’t mean he was romantically attracted to them. It certainly didn’t mean he’d consider dating them.

Kyoya briefly imagine Natsuki Tohgouin as his Admirer.

How could he have missed this? Kyoya sat up in bed and ran a hand over his face. People didn’t just _miss_ this sort of thing.

Kyoya looked at Tamaki briefly.

Maybe the problem of imagining them together arose because Kyoya didn’t even know his own sexuality.

But that was ridiculous.

Right?

Kyoya’s gut twisted and he felt like he might throw up.

Carefully he walked to Tamaki’s en suite and sat next to the tub. The western claw foot was cold and hard against his back but it was grounding.

If Kyoya was gay and he thought Tamaki was attractive, the story he was writing was…

Kyoya drew his knees up to his chest, closed his eyes, and lay his head on his knees. He wasn’t in love with Tamaki. Tamaki was his friend and Tamaki was attractive. There were at least a few people Kyoya recognized as attractive without being attracted to them, weren’t the girls he’d mentioned earlier an example.

He wasn’t someone who would…

He wasn’t trying to write and live out some sick…

Kyoya shook his head. He felt feverish. He reached over and ran the tub’s cold water, splashing some on his face.

He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to. He, he’d have to just change the plot then. Keep enough romantic whatever to make Renge and the girl’s satisfied, and focus more on the other love triangle, uncovering who had written the love note, maybe on Kyoya’s work related issues. He could add a subplot where Tamaki has to come to terms with his friends drifting apart.

He’d quit after a few more chapters too, after sales were good. Or he’d tell Renge he changed his mind about allowing distribution of host club doujinshi.

God, what was wrong with him?

Tamaki was his best friend and he was…

But he hadn’t done it on purpose. No. He had just been too stupid to figure out he was gay. This entire time the signs had been right in front of him.

Oh God.

Oh _fuck._

He was _gay._

What was his father going to say? What was his father going to do? What about being heir? Kyoya’s breathing sped up.

His father wasn’t going to disown him, right? That was definitely an overreaction and it would look bad on the Ootoris. His father wouldn’t risk it. No, he’d…

Fuyumi would be fine with it.

Akito would…Akito would be an asshole about this, because he was an asshole about everything, but he wasn’t going to react violently. Akito was a jerk but he wasn’t a bully.

But if anyone found out about this Kyoya would never inherit his father’s company.

And he’d have to marry. He’d have to marry some girl he didn’t like, _couldn’t_ like and there would be the threat of a scandal hanging over his head at all times.

Was he hyperventilating? How fast did your breathing have to be before it was hyperventilating?

Kyoya gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his palms.

He wanted to cry. He hadn’t cried in years, not really. The last time he felt like crying he had been 14 and Tamaki had been over, telling him he just wasn’t trying hard enough.

He wasn’t going to cry though.

Kyoya wasn’t _weak_.

He would get a handle on this. Find ways to make it work. Find someone, a girl he trusted maybe, all he needed was one girl he trusted to marry him and then it wouldn’t be so bad.

Would his father even let him choose though? Kyoya wrapped his arms tighter around his knees, water still running.

There had been a sword hanging over Kyoya’s head and he was just realizing it now. What an idiot. How pathetic that he had ignoring this. Tears welled up in Kyoya’s eyes.

He was _not_ going to cry. He wasn’t. An Ootori didn’t cry.

He had to get dirt on Kita. It couldn’t wait. Tomorrow he would dig up something.

He had to.

 

Nobuko Kita sat in the back row of class 2-A (now 3-A) and was only 11th in class standings because of her poor language abilities. She was captain of the school’s archery team, which wasn’t a particular feat since there were only six people on the team, the art club was always trying to recruit her, but she didn’t get along with the president. She was loud at times, not very polite, pushed up the sleeves of her uniform dress and constantly complained. She spoke like a delinquent, kept poor notes, and was overly aggressive in physical education class. In short, she had many personality flaws. She did, however, keep secrets. Inquiring about her had led nowhere.

On Sunday, after a sleepless night, he had excused himself from Tamaki’s company. Later he inquired about Kita and eventually visited her house, under the pretence of asking about art class. She had been outside, shooting various things with arrows. Kyoya had taken this opportunity to pretend he didn’t see her, and told the servants he would wait for her in her room.

Her room was large and with minimalist furniture. She had a desk in the left corner, covered in paints, markers, and canvas, and an easel beside that.

Kyoya wandered around toward her dresser, but it was completely bare. As was her work desk. He needed to find dirt on her fast.

Kyoya stopped in front of her art desk and tentatively opened a drawer. The only things inside were art supplies. Kyoya peered into her closet, but all he found was clothes and archery equipment.

Kyoya sighed, and then paused.

 He’d seen the bows she’d used and one of the ones in her closet was definitely too small. Kyoya looked to the closed bedroom door and bent down, examining the small bow.

It looked like it had been recently used and there were small scratched the indicated age. It seemed to be built for a child rather than a teenager or adult.

 Why would Kita still have a child’s bow? And why would she have recently used it. Kyoya looked further into the closet at a few locked boxes and opened them.

They were filled with arrows. But one box had shorter, blunter arrows. Practice arrows? Why would Kita still need beginner’s equipment? Why not put them in storage? She didn’t have any younger siblings to train did she?

Kyoya smiled and withdrew. He sat on the couch and waited for Kita to return. If she were training someone in the archery club, he would have known. If she was training someone in the school, chances are he would have still heard. If she was training someone not in the school, well, one could argue that was a sort of job, paid or no.

Kita arrived shortly after and Kyoya asked her to demonstrate how well she shaded fur on animals. She sat down at her desk and showed him, casting glances at him now at then.

“I don’t often draw animals and I thought it would be simpler to see someone demonstrate first before I attempted it myself,” Kyoya said.

Kita just looked at him and drew. “The art assignment is due Tuesday, Kyoya,”

Kyoya blinked.

“I dunno why you’ve suddenly started procrastinating.”

“Well,” Kyoya smiled. “Last month of course I spent a lot of time planning Tamaki’s surprise birthday party, it put me behind on a lot of host club planning, something I have to catch up on now. There’s no need to worry about me.”

Kita nodded.

“You know, I think that it’s so stupid that some clubs get more funding than others. Like the American Football club gets money from the school but you guys have to raise it yourself and the Archery club doesn’t get _nothing_ you know? Like okay, so I’m the only one who ever made it to regionals and we only have six members, but if we had more funding it’d be easier to attract members. Excepting to get everyone to pay for their equipment up front is so ridiculous man, seriously it’s…”

Kita carried on and Kyoya stopped listening and watched her draw. He had already finished the assignment though it wasn’t nearly as good as he wanted it to be. This doujinshi was definitely taking up too much of his time. Even drawing for art class, something that used to be sort of relaxing, was tiring now. Besides, even with all the money he’d been too busy to even plan another host club event.

He left shortly after, dropping hints and talking to servants about whether Kita was training anyone.

He did a bit more research when he got home and found she was in fact, training people. She was training middle schoolers in the hopes that they would continue the club when she left. She was also training inner city youth. How commendable, and utterly against the rules.

With that taken care of Kyoya slept easily for the first time in weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotional Father-Son talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some authors who don't like feedback or don't like when people talk to them about random things. I am not one of them. Hit me up here or [here](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)

 

With renewed resolve Kyoya worked on his new “not Kyoya/Tamaki” focused doujinshi plan and started planning a host club event. He was still tired, but underneath that lethargy was determination.

He got back into the swing of finishing all his work and studying, and avidly stopped being alone in the same room with Tamaki or Mori.

He gathered more insignificant details about everyone’s lives and sold them all.

Tamaki’s mother bakes methodically to calm herself down and help her deal with illness-related emotional trauma? In the doujinshi.

Honey’s relationship with his brother actually causing him a lot of stress but he feels he can’t do much to change it so he prioritizes himself first instead? In the doujinshi.

Hikaru drawing flower arrangements on the backs of his exams to calm himself down because of test anxiety?

Kaoru writing very bad poetry in an attempt to have diverging talents from his brother and establish an individual identity because he’s worried about co-dependency issues?

Mori’s mother being an avid animal rights supporter and constantly arguing with her brother-in-law who runs a meat packing plant creating family discord and putting Mori, his brother, and his cousins in a difficult position?

Family strife? Insecurities? Fears?

All of it was in the doujinshi.

Kyoya knew it was despicable, but he also knew that the host club guests would eat these details up like candy. They would have started rumours about these kinds of things anyway.

Anyone could see the back of Hikaru’s tests. Anyone could have found Kaoru’s poetry.

It was contemptible sure, but that had never stopped Kyoya before.

He did include details about himself too: his enjoyments of reading high fantasy, his favourite food, his soft spot for 80’s Pop and fact that he often studied while taking long baths.

It didn’t make it better. It didn’t erase what he had done, what he was doing. But Kyoya could take as good as he gave. He could do that much.

Besides, Chapter Two sales were fantastic and it looked like Chapter Three would be even better. With May at a close Kyoya only had a few more chapters to do before he would tell Renge he was uncomfortable selling them.

He had to make the last chapters good if he wanted to stem the opportunity costs. The doujinshi had been circulating widely for months, but it wasn’t quite enough. Sales of Chapter One of _Getting the Band Back Together_ had been the highest selling. Every host club guest owned one and many not in the club did too. Some guys had even bought them. It was unprecedented success and it would come crashing to halt. Kyoya gritted his teeth.

Kyoya double-checked that his physics homework was in his bag as he made his way to breakfast. Yuuichi wasn’t there, just his father and Akito. Akito looked exhausted, his shirt collar buttoned up all the way to the top and heavy bags under his eyes. Still he looked pleased with himself and Kyoya didn’t let himself wonder why.

They ate in silence. His father would occasionally make a hmming remark at the newspaper he was reading, but Akito didn’t make a sound, only faintly smiled down at his plate.

Kyoya shifted in his chair.

His father looked up and set his newspaper down. “I don’t know if you have club activities today but I think it would be best to cancel them. We need to talk.”

Kyoya froze, chopsticks poised in the air. His shoulder muscles tensed. He put his food down. It looked utterly unappetizing anyway.

“A colleague of mine mentioned that his daughter had purchased a doujinshi of the host club. It’s of the utmost importance we talk about this, Kyoya.”

His father stared at him, but Kyoya didn’t dare make eye contact. His heart beat painfully in his chest. He felt dizzy and a almost faint.

“It’s very important we discuss this. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“I will be at home by the time you get back from school. We will talk in my study.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good.”

Kyoya took a sip of water but didn’t finish his breakfast. Akito, mercifully, seemed oblivious to the whole exchange.

How had his father found out about the doujinshi? Had he read it? Had he—

“And Kyoya, the next time you write something about the family, you should clear it with me first.”

Kyoya stood suddenly. The newspaper was back in front of his father’s face, but Akito raised an eyebrow at him.

“Excuse me.” Kyoya tried to swallow, but the saliva was too thick in his throat.

Kyoya left the dining room and tried to walk instead of stagger down the hall. When he got outside he threw up into the bushes. The taste of vomit lingered even when he got into the town car.

Kyoya’s breathing quickened.

No. No he had to get a hold of himself. There could still be a way out of this. How had his father even known _he_ had written it? Perhaps his father had misspoke and meant “publish”?

This was too much. Had it been Kita? All this time getting dirt on her and he hadn’t made a threat. He had assumed she would come to him first.

Goddammit!

How had he been so foolish? So _stupid_? How could he let this happen? He was a failure.

His father would wonder if he was gay, certainly. He’d find out soon enough. But…But maybe Kyoya could deflect, talk his way out of it.

Kyoya saw the school approach through the window and for the first time he really didn’t want to be at school. School had been a haven where he could succeed, a place to showcase his talents where he couldn’t at home. Even when he was small and his best friend Kuze had stopped playing with him, when many of the other children had stopped playing with him as well, there had always been teachers, always someone to tell him he’d done a good job.

Even after his mother died…

Kyoya would not cry. Not today.

He still tasted metallic vomit, still felt like he could keel over at any moment, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He was an Ootori and an Ootori did not give up. Ootori’s were better than this and Kyoya too would be better than this.

When he arrived at school took the service staircase to avoid being seen (mostly by Tamaki) and bolted straight to the top floor bathroom.

He splashed cold water on his face and looked into the mirror.

Kyoya could still fix this. He wasn’t _completely_ useless. He just needed to calm down and think clearly.

Kyoya looked unnaturally pale in the mirror. He dug his nails into his cheekbones until they hurt, hoping blood would rush to the site and give him some colour. He sighed and stepped back from the mirror.

Kyoya needed a plan. Kyoya didn’t always make good decisions without a plan. Kyoya did things like punching cars and dressing yakuza in cat maid outfits without a plan.

What was Kyoya’s plan?

Try to fix things with Kita? Have her take the credit for drawing the doujinshi?

Kyoya could say he contracted her because they were friends.

They talked often enough that if Kyoya said they were friends… well, it would be hard for his father to refute that. While Tamaki had been over frequently Kaoru had only been over maybe two or three times so having a friend who hadn’t been that all wasn’t too strange.

Kyoya took deep breaths until he no longer felt like vomiting and then rinsed his mouth under the tap. He grimaced at his own actions. Such a common thing to do.

Kyoya straightened his uniform and stared back at his reflection. He frowned.

Kyoya walked straight to class 3-A and took his seat. Tamaki raised an eyebrow at him, no doubt wondering where he had been.

Kyoya ignored him and Tamaki nodded, facing forward. It was such an odd thing, that there were times when Tamaki could be calm and level headed.

The day until lunch passed in a sort of haze. Lunch was Kyoya staring at his food and the twins bickering and Tamaki looking at him sadly. Like he was Kirimi or Shiro or some other small child that needed to be protected.

Kyoya hated being pitied.

After lunch were the electives and Kyoya cornered Kita almost immediately. He ushered her into the back room quickly. The door had a window but the storage room would be quiet.

“I heard you were training middle school students and inner city youth in archery.” There was no point beating around the bush. Kyoya smiled, but he knew the effect was more likely to be disconcerting than comforting.

“I-yeah.”

“You know, that could almost count as a job.”

“It’s…volunteering.”

“I wonder if the school board will see it that way.”

Kita froze. She pushed her sleeves further up her arms and leaned away. She seemed confused. “You’re threatening me?”

“Well not threatening exactly…”

“Ah well threatening is a harsh word isn’it?”

“More like blackmail.”

Kita crossed her arms now. Her eyebrows turned inward and her lips pressed into a firm line. She was not afraid of him yet. Annoying.

“The host club has been selling some doujinshi recently, I plan for it to stop, but I do need someone to take credit for the anonymous artists work.”

“The artist is you.”

Kyoya laughed. He genuinely laughed. He was sure it sounded crazy, his laughter usually did, though this time it was more unhinged than most.

Now Kita looked scared.

“I need you to go to Renge in person, tell her you’re the artist and that you don’t feel comfortable drawing anything romantic.” Later once Renge told Kyoya about what Kita had said, Kyoya would take the leap to stop all publications. When he talked to his dad, he could simply feign ignorance then reveal he knew the identity of the artist to be Kita, but his dad could ask Renge or Kita herself if he didn’t believe Kyoya.

Kyoya smiled. “If anyone asks you’re—”

“I’m suppose to take credit for it.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

Kita shuffled from foot to foot and crossed her arms.

“This seems kinda weird, even for you…”

Kyoya continued to smile. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about next year’s archery team.” And with that Kyoya left and took his seat in art class. Several of the students had seen them talking, but only seemed confused as to why Kita looked uncomfortable. None were suspicious. Good.

Kyoya had this under control. Finally. Kita had been right. He was slipping.

But not anymore.

Kyoya focused and took deep breaths for the rest of the day. He hadn’t eaten much at lunch and he was starving by the time he got home, but he didn’t dare stop to eat.

Instead he marched straight to his father’s study and knocked.

“Come in.”

Kyoya opened the door slowly and closed it behind him. His father’s study was far too ornate for such a practical man, but it had been Kyoya’s mother who had picked out much of the furniture. The wall-to-wall bookshelves, the magnificent mahogany desk. Kyoya got excited imaging the kind of power just sitting behind that desk would bring.

Kyoya bowed and took a seat in front of his father’s desk. The green leather chairs were comfortable and part of an aesthetic his mother had loved.

“The first thing I wanted to say Kyoya is that you really should have come to me about all of this first.”

Kyoya tried not to flinch.

“Yes, Father.”

“But,” Kyoya’s father drew out several chapters for his desk. “After reading this, I can see why you didn’t.”

Kyoya’s heart almost stopped.

“You were sacred.”

No, not scared. Kyoya was just … Kyoya had just made an executive decision, had thought it pointless to worry his father over such trivial matters.

“You were scared of rejection.” His dad flipped open a chapter and looked down. “You really are a talented artist, Kyoya. I would have never expected…”

“I-“ No, don’t fumble now Kyoya, not _now_. How could he be so worthless that he would—“I didn’t draw it. A classmate of mine, Kita—”

“There’s no reason to lie, Kyoya.” His father folded his hands and placed them on the desk. “While there are, evidently, many things I don’t know about you, I do know you well enough to know you would have never shared this much of your life with anyone. At least, not verbally. Not intentionally.” Kyoya’s expression must have changed because his father’s tone softened. “I’m not mad. I just…”

Kyoya heart beat so painfully that, if he had not been raised in a family of doctors, he might have thought he was having a heart attack. What was his father talking about? Was he… Kyoya’s grip on the armrest tightened.

“I just think it very important that we have this talk. Mental illness is a serious matter and I want you to know that it doesn’t make you weak to suffer from it.”

Kyoya blinked. What was his father talking about?

Kyoya’s father raised an eyebrow.

“You’re fictitious counterpart has some very self-destructive thoughts and depressive tendencies. Being written by _you_ I thought that perhaps this was a reflection of your own psyche, a part which you were unaware was harmful.”

Kyoya opened his mouth to say something.

“Let’s see,” Kyoya’s father flicked through some pages of the chapter. “Losing interest in social interaction and activities you once found enjoyable at an alarming rate. Loss of appetite, weight, difficulty sleeping—borderline insomnia, the constant thoughts and complains this comic you has of being ‘tired’, the loss of energy. This sounds a lot like depression Kyoya.”

Kyoya’s grip released on the armrest. Did that sound like depression? Why had he put all that in there anyway? Maybe…Maybe he did have insomnia but he…was he depressed?

“If you ever want to talk about depression or anxiety, Kyoya, I will find you an excellent doctor or therapist, and you can always come to me. I take mental health very serious and I…disdain the stigma it has. It is not practical to lay stigma on a condition.” Kyoya’s father paused and Kyoya’s heart rate began to descend. “Your mother, you may have been too young to remember…She…” Kyoya’s father shook his head. “I often watched as she did brilliant mathematical calculations or talked about abstract concepts I couldn’t even begin to grasp but some things, like talking on the phone…they were beyond her. I don’t want you to feel like you have to force yourself to do things you can’t do. Your mental health is important to me Kyoya. You’re my son…”

Kyoya had near heard about his mother having difficulty talking on the phone, had never heard his father say anything so heartfelt.

“And, Kyoya, whether or not you are gay or anything else will not effect my acceptance of you either. Of course necessary measures will have to be taken. If you’re gay I don’t expect you to be bringing a date to public events but that’s not to say I would force you to marry someone, especially if it decreased your mental health.”

Kyoya opened his mouth again, but no sound came out of it.

“I do trust your discretion. I would hope that you would tell me these things, however.”

Kyoya wrapped his arms around himself. He felt like he was going to cry though he wasn’t sure why.

Should he tell his father? Should he just say it? He’d never said it out loud before but maybe…

“If you want to continue writing this, as a sort of cathartic exercise, then that’s fine. But it will not be published and I think it would be best to cease all other artworks your club produces.”

Kyoya nodded. Tears were welling up in his eyes. This wasn’t what he expected at all.

“If…you want to see a doctor, all you have to do is ask, I can recommend several.” His father looked like he was hoping Kyoya would say yes but Kyoya opted for silence instead.

They waited in silence for several minutes.

“I promised that there would be one more chapter published and I think it will be the last.” Kyoya rubbed circled on his arms with his thumb. Relief was starting to wash through him, and something else, a calm sense of warmth he sometimes felt with Tamaki.

“That is acceptable.”

“May I be excused?”

Kyoya’s father didn’t look surprised, but for the first time Kyoya thought he might look sad.

“Of course.”

Kyoya stood and then paused.

“What-“ Kyoya cleared his throat. “What self-destructive thoughts were you referring to?”

“Well, for thing, thinking that because you can’t play the piano well that you are a failure as a person is extreme. Being upset that you can’t comfort for your friend is understandable, thinking that this makes you someone who is incapable of feeling is…worrying.”

Kyoya nodded and left. He headed straight for his room and threw himself on his bed. He felt exhausted. Was that a sign of depression or had it just been a long day?

If he hadn’t realized he was gay and he hadn’t realized he might be depressed, what other things had he missed? Did he really know himself at all?

He…he wasn’t depressed though. He…

Well maybe he reflected on his negative attributes too much, but he was just being a realist. He _was_ unkind, a liar, a cheat, someone who used blackmail to get what he wanted. That wasn’t a lie.

Kyoya closed his eyes.

He wasn’t going to be a depressed gay teen in love with his best friend. That was far too cliché.

Kyoya groaned. He wondered if he should write more of the doujinshi. He had used to enjoy art before the doujinshi.

At least he had enjoyed being good at it.

Kyoya kneaded his eyes under his glasses. It would be easier to come up with a happier ending now, with at least his father’s acceptance. Now that it was plausible at least that Kyoya could…

He could just date people, albeit discreetly. Embrace an official “confirmed bachelor“ status maybe.

Kyoya grunted. There was still so much that could go wrong, so much that could ruin everything, the Ootori family name, their business and the Suohs…

Kyoya turned on his side and buried his face in his pillow. His gut twisted and he still felt a little sick. Maybe he should see a doctor. Or a therapist. It might be better, even if he wasn’t depressed, just to be able to talk about it.

Kyoya fell asleep, fully clothed, and didn’t wake till morning.


	6. Chapter 6

The doujinshi profits didn’t plateau. They just kept increasing. Girls were buzzing about it in the hall and in class and in art class.

Kita shot him looks in art class, but Kyoya was hardly paying attention. Just sketching absently. A head, slight curls.

Tamaki texted him half way through class.

_we shd do xsp csply evnt_

Kyoya frowned.

_What are you talking about? And for the last time, text me normally!_

Kyoya put his phone back in his pocket and went back to sketching.

“You shouldn’t be using your phone in class,” Kita whispered, peering over his shoulder. “Is that supposed to be Tamaki?”

“No.” Kyoya shifted away from her.

“I ended up seeing that comic you were talking ‘bout. The art is really nice.”

Kyoya’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked up and the teacher was still looking down, head buried in marking.

Kyoya took out his phone briefly and read the message.

_we should do some sort of extra special cosplay event. you know, since sales have been good._

“You guys should do like a 1920’s cosplay or an French 1920’s cosplay.” Kita was looking down at Kyoya’s phone. Kyoya couldn’t really move any further away from her without being conspicuous so he angled his phone instead.

_We’ll talk after the club._

Kyoya put his phone away and ignored Kita for the rest of the class.

When normal classes resumed Tamaki was eager to talk about all his ideas, but Kyoya didn’t respond. He just wrote them all down in the back of his notebook and tried to pay attention in class.

He was still out of it from yesterday.

During club hours while all the hosts were hosting Kyoya stared down at the ideas in his book.

-future cosplay?

-a mystery murder party

-Tweleve Kingdoms cosplay

-a _future_ mystery murder party

-a masquerade ball

-a cosplay masquerade ball?

-a future masquerade ball?

-a future masquerade ball murder mystery

-something involving puppies

-a Wicked cosplay event where Haruhi was Galinda

 

The list went on and on.

Kyoya looked it over dispassionately, crossing out the more ludicrous idea. Rocky Horror Picture show? No. Everyone dressed as trees? No.

Kyoya crossed things out and finished the homework he hadn’t completed yesterday. When he was finished that, he doodled a bit in his notebook. At least it would look like he was doing something important.

When the club hours finally ended Kyoya was grateful—at least until Tamaki bounced over to him and sat on his worktable.

“So what do you think about my ideas?” Tamaki’s arm spread out in a wide arch. “Are they brilliant? Are they fabulous? Do you love them?” Tamaki clenched his fists and bounced up and down on the table.

Kyoya closed his book and sighed.

“A lot of them simply aren’t feasible, and there’s no need for you to be so dramatic. There isn’t anyone here for you to host.”

“Sorry,” Tamaki laughed and ran a hand through his hair, mussing up slight curls. “But what do you think?” Tamaki repositioned himself on the table so his knee bumped into Kyoya’s elbow.

Kyoya pushed Tamaki’s leg away, warmth seeping into his hand. “We could do a murder mystery, since you seen so keen on it, but I was thinking we should invite our guests parents. A tasteful affair might be best.”

Tamaki nodded. “So would we have a ball? Would we do future cosplay? I don’t know if the parents—”

“We can have a future cosplay as a normal function and the murder mystery ball that weekend.”

Tamaki smiled. His expression and his mouth look soft. Tamaki’s eyes lit up and Kyoya felt himself smiling too. He leaned a little bit forward and lifted his hand off the table, glancing at Tamaki’s knee.

“Of course, for the future cosplay, I’m not sure if you expect the guests to come in cosplay as well, if so we’ll need to give ample notice. It’ll also take some time to draw up a script and clues for the murder mystery.”

Tamaki nodded and brushed the hair out of his face. Kyoya put his hand back on the table, his pinky finger brushing Tamaki’s leg. Kyoya swallowed.

“Fantastic.”

Kyoya didn’t say anything.

“I’ll definitely help with the script, after all, yours truly will be the detective, I’ll certainly catch the criminal.”

“You couldn’t catch a cold.”

Tamaki laughed. Loudly, disproportionately, and without restraint, and Kyoya felt himself laugh too, smiling for the first time in weeks.

“That was mean.” Tamaki said, but he was grinning from ear to ear and so was Kyoya.

His heart pounded and his palms sweated and his ears were still filled with the sound of Tamaki’s laughter.

Kyoya opened his mouth. He stared at Tamaki’s tongue as he brushed it over his teeth. Kyoya licked his lips. “You know—”

No. No. No.

He wasn’t…

Not _again._

This was getting ridiculous.

Tamaki cocked his head to the side and moved his leg. Kyoya felt the need to wipe his palms on something. Instead he clenched his hands into fists.

“Are you okay? Are your hands hurting from all the writing? I can massaged them if you want?” Tamaki reached for Kyoya’s hand and Kyoya’s heart skipped a beat.

He was in love with Tamaki. He was so stupidly in love with him. And Tamaki had no idea. There was no way he could just let this continue.

What was he going to do?

And then realization hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

What was he going to do about being in love with Tamaki? Months of preparation had given him the answer.

_Absolutely nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're two thirds of the the way through this story! What a great time to talk to me! The author! I do have a tumblr [here ](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com) and I hope you find this all amusing instead of aggravating.


	7. Chapter 7

 

After realizing he was in love in Tamaki, Kyoya was so out of it he wasn’t quite sure how to go back to being normal.

While he felt disconnected from everything, he was also completely unsurprised at the revelation. The only sensible thing to do was to ignore it and catch up on the other areas of life he had missed.

He studied. He did his homework. He planned events. But his heart wasn’t in it; hadn’t been in it for months now. Before it had been because he was busy or perhaps anxious, but now, now he didn’t feel much of anything. He was utterly ungrounded, with no idea how to proceed.

He was trying to eat better though, especially breakfast.

He had called his sister, not knowing what else to do. But instead of an enlightening chat she had insisted they spend some time together. Despite his love for her, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Instead, he sat in his room waiting for her, staring blankly at the couch across from him. The first time he had had a problem with Tamaki, she had been right here, digging everything out of him. He wasn’t sure he wanted that again, if he wanted to know what else he was hiding from himself.

This…negative affectivity was most likely not something he had been deliberately hiding, but with all likelihood, his sexuality and feelings for Tamaki had probably been suppressed. Kyoya liked to think of himself as a relatively self-aware person, someone who knew his own faults. Apparently there had been quite a few he’d missed.

But maybe they weren’t faults per se.

Kyoya groaned and leaned back on the couch. He looked at his fingernails. He really didn’t want to talk about Tamaki, not now.

By the time Fuyumi did arrive all Kyoya wanted to do was sleep. He didn’t try to hide it. When she entered the room Kyoya barely looked up.

Fuyumi frowned and sat beside him on the couch.

“What’s wrong? I knew something was up when you called me, but you look…” Awful? “Sad.” She moved her arms up, as if she was making a move to hug him, and then thought better of it.

Kyoya frowned. “Why did mom have trouble speaking on the phone?”

Fuyumi blinked. “I, I don’t know, I don’t remember her ever talking on the phone. I always thought it had to do with her hearing… She used to say she didn’t hear things properly. I remember sometimes she would play the violin or accordion in the middle of dinner or at a family event, though. She used to say she was ‘recalibrating her ears’. Maybe she was just hearing things.”

Kyoya nodded.

Fuyumi frowned. “Are you…are you hearing things?”

Kyoya shook his head. “No, I’m just tired.”

“You never did get enough sleep. You know I always—”

“Father thinks…that it…” He didn’t feel emotionally ready for this conversation. “Do you ever wonder whether or not you’re a bad person? Or a good person?”

Fuyumi raised her eyebrows slightly and straightened her posture . She placed one hand at his elbow but didn’t turn him to look at her.

“You aren’t a bad person.”

Kyoya didn’t say anything.

“I know that’s not what you asked but I-it’s important that you know that. I always say you’re too hard on…” Out of the corner of his eye Kyoya could see Fuyumi’s expression soften. “Besides, no one can really define what ‘good person’ means.”

Fuyumi was a ‘good person’. Tamaki was a ‘good person’.

“Everyone has faults. I’m probably too nosy for one, and I’m not very good at organizing things, but I have a wonderful bedside manner, at least according to my patients, but…” Fuyumi withdrew her hand. Kyoya swallowed. Of course Fuyumi would try to cheer him p. He was her brother and she loved him unconditionally. Unconditionally. Even if he were a monster she would still be here. It was as comforting a thought as it was maddening.

“Look I think it’s important—”

“Did father ever…” Kyoya cleared his throat. “Did he ever say anything heartfelt to you? Or tell you he loved you, when you were a kid?”

Fuyumi pursed her lips, but took the hint.

“Well, let me tell you a story. Dad didn’t say anything bad of course, but sometimes it’s what he doesn’t say that can be the most stressful.” Fuyumi smiled at Kyoya. Kyoya looked down at his hands instead. “When I was just starting medical school, I was…afraid of who father was going to suggest I marry. Especially since often his ‘suggestions’ are less recommendations then they are plans. I remember asking everyone I knew about families and boys and I spent forever trying to find someone I liked, and carefully constructed a plan of how I was going to get someone to suggest to father that I marry him.”

Fuyumi smiled. “Of course, dad technically married for love but all this talk, it never came from him directly. It was everyone else around me that kept talking about getting married, doing what was best for the family, it was a lot to deal with, especially in the middle of medical school. Father kept talking about knowing what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, finding my place in the family and I was so _sure_ that he had dozens of suitors he was going to suggest for me, and little time for me to choose. I worked so hard in school and harder trying to make Shido seem like the best choice for me to marry and I remember being 21, and some old man telling me he was surprised I hadn’t settled down yet. It was, it was terrible, like a kick to the gut, all my fears bubbling to the surface. I’m sure I babbled about my commitment to becoming a doctor but that’s not quite the point.”

Kyoya looked up at his sister. Her eyes seemed far away. “Father was so obsessed with appearances and maintaining the perfect image and ideals that it never occurred to me he didn’t believe them. But that day he called me into his office, and I was so scared, and he talked to me about what I was going to do.

“ ‘If you don’t wish to marry we should think of a more appropriate reason to present,’ He said. ‘We can give focus to your dedication to understanding the family business, perhaps in wanting to honour your mother’s memory and commitment to pursuing knowledge.’ He talked on and on and not once did he talk about forcing me to get married. All he talked about was presenting an image, a front, of why I wasn’t married. When I asked him about it he looked confused. I had thought this whole time that my marriage was to be an inevitability rather than a choice, but he had never thought anything like that.

“ ’Of course you have a choice,’ He said. ‘I’m not going to sell you. You’re my daughter, not a horse.’ He had never considered it any other way. He had simply taken for granted that I understood.”

Kyoya considered the information carefully. “But you got married anyway?”

“Yes. I had already put a lot of work into getting people to like Shido, and _I_ liked Shido too, but it was still my choice and on my terms. That’s not to say father doesn’t have faults. He is _much_ too concerned with what others think and keeping up pretences.” Fuyumi squared her shoulders and lowered her voice. ” ‘Why do you keep coming over? Are you trying to make us look bad?’  Well maybe I enjoy spending time with my brothers!” Fuyumi sighed. “This wasn’t what you wanted to talk about was it?”

“No, it was,” Kyoya swallowed. “It was helpful.” He had never really thought much about Fuyumi’s marriage. She had always seemed fine with it, enthusiastic even, but if she had really orchestrated the whole thing behind their father’s back, well, he supposed he’d underestimated his sister.

“I think I’m gay.” Kyoya said. He pushed up his glasses and stared straight ahead.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m glad you told me, though.” Fuyumi smiled. “I’ll confess I may have bought some last minute symphony tickets and was hoping you would come with me. We so rarely get to spend time together.”

Kyoya rubbed his eyes and fought back a yawn. “All right.”

Fuyumi brightened and sprang to her feet immediately heading upstairs to Kyoya’s closet.

“I’ll help you find something to wear!”

“That’s not really necessary.”

“Nonsense! It’s my duty as your sister to help.”

Kyoya smiled and watched her rummage through his closet.

 

The symphony was good. It was relaxing. Kyoya had forgotten how much he loved listening to beautifully played music. It must have been years since he last heard someone play this well.

Tamaki might have been the last.

Kyoya had been wondering what exactly he was going to tell Tamaki. Talking with his sister had only proven that while he didn’t want to talk to someone about his problems, he also really did.

He loved his sister, truly, but he knew she would love and accept him no matter what, and that, that just made things worse. How was he supposed to know what parts of him were okay and which ones weren’t if his sister would love all of them?

He’d thought about talking to Haruhi. She would be okay with that, and she wasn’t going to sugar coat his other faults. But Haruhi might be too clever for him to lie to convincingly. At least Tamaki was gullible enough that he didn’t always see through Kyoya’s lies.

He couldn’t just tell Tamaki he was in love with him, though. Kyoya wasn’t even sure what would happen if he did.

What if Tamaki rejected him?

What if Tamaki didn’t?

All these thoughts were still swirling in his head by Thursday. He’d managed to get some homework and club finances done while the other hosts were hosting, but he knew he was distracted.

Kyoya looked up at all the guests still lingering despite club hours ending soon. He wanted rub his eyes, but instead he smiled and waved at them.

Kyoya looked back down at his notebook and scrawled a few ideas for the murder mystery ball. Haruhi and Tamaki were the likely detective and sidekick pair, though which was which was sure to be hotly debated.

Making himself the murderer wouldn’t look very good, and the twins? Well that was almost too cliché.

Kyoya wrote down more notes, grateful for something at least somewhat mindless to do.

When club hours ended Kyoya got up to leave immediately, but Tamaki interrupted him.

“Wait! Kyoya, I thought maybe we could do something?”

“You’re suddenly asked to do something all the time.” Kyoya sounded more snappish than he meant. He continued to walk towards the door, bag in hand, but Tamaki grabbed his arm.

“It’s just on Monday, in the morning, you looked really out of it. You…” Tamaki swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. Kyoya stared at the places where it didn’t fall back in place.  “I can see you’re pretty stressed lately, but…I don’t know how to make it better.”

Kyoya frowned and then looked down at Tamaki’s hand on his forearm.

“It’s not your job to ‘make it better’” Tamaki pouted and Kyoya resisted a sigh. “I’m handling it. Thursday was…” Should he say it? It hadn’t been so hard to say it to his sister after all. “I was simply anxious because my father and I were discussing…” Tamaki was looking really intently at Kyoya’s face. Kyoya swallowed and adjusted his glasses. “We had discussed my future marriage plans, or rather, the lack thereof.”

Kyoya swallowed again and removed Tamaki’s hand from his arm.

He looked around the club. He spotted Mori waiting for Honey patiently on the couch. The twins and Haruhi walked towards the door.

Kyoya stepped aside, to give them more room. He looked back at Tamaki, hoping he’d gotten the hint.

Tamaki’s brow was furrowed. He pressed his lips into a firm line and he was clearly thinking hard about _something_. “Are you worried about marriage?” Tamaki looked confused. “Isn’t it a little early to worry about that? You’re only 17.”

Kyoya shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. The twins and Haruhi were out the door but possibly still in the hall.

“I have always considered it my duty to marry someone of high standing to advance our company’s position.” Tamaki blinked and Kyoya’s throat felt thick. “When faced with the possibility that I may be unable to do that, I was, somewhat distressed over how such a thing would be perceived.”

“I’m don’t understand.”

Kyoya gritted his teeth. Try to hide something and Tamaki was able to instantly dig it up, but try to tell him something subtly and _Oh no._

“I was simply under the impression that my father wouldn’t take it well if I chose not to marry. However, my assumption was erroneous and was swiftly dealt with. I feel much better now. Thank you for your concern, but it is unwarranted.”

Tamaki cocked his head. “Are you saying you want to marry for love?” Tamaki’s eye’s brightened and dread sunk in Kyoya’s stomach like an anchor. “You have a crush on someone! I KNEW it!” Tamaki clapped his hands together. “Who is it? You have to tell me!”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone,” Kyoya hissed. Tamaki leaned in closer, conspiringly.

“You can tell me! I promise! OH! This is so exciting! Which princess has captured your eye? I cannot imagine.” Tamaki gasped. “It’s not Haruhi is it?”

“Of course it’s not Haruhi! It’s not anyone, I don’t have a crush—”

“But you’re not marrying for position! You just said, so you must be marrying for love, which means you’ve already found—”

“I’m gay.”

Tamaki froze. Kyoya froze. Kyoya’s insides churned and for one brief second Kyoya thought he might be sick again.

“Oh.” Tamaki didn’t step back but he did unclasp his hands. “ _Oh._ ”

Kyoya’s heart was beating too fast and he was starting to feel dizzy. His low blood pressure wasn’t helping.

“Okay.”

Kyoya inched toward the door. Tamaki moved with him.

“So is there a guy you have a crush—”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone!” Kyoya glared and Tamaki smiled slightly.

“Okay. I—well I’m glad you worked things out with your dad, you said you—”

“Right.”

The conversation felt awkward but it was still a relief to get off his chest.

“Does your sister?”

“Yes.”

“But your brothers—”

“No.”

“Right.”

Kyoya bit his lip. There were so many things he could say. So many things he _could_ talk to Tamaki about, even if he didn’t. The knot in Kyoya’s stomach uncoiled slowly.

“That’s good. Though, you could have come to me sooner. Since, you know.” Tamaki nodded his head at something and Kyoya shifted his weight, casting a sidelong look at Mori, still waiting on the other side of the room, but out of earshot.

“While I understand that you’re my friend, this matter was something I thought best handled myself.”

“No, I meant, you could have just asked me for advice you know, being queer.”

What?

Tamaki was staring at Kyoya strangely. As if Tamaki was the one making perfect sense and Kyoya were being particularly dense and not the other way around.

“You know, since I’m bi, I just thought…maybe you’d want to ask me how to handle things you know parents and…”

Kyoya felt like sitting down, but managed to remain standing. Tamaki was…Tamaki was…

Which meant, that theoretically there was a chance that Kyoya could—

No. No. Avoid that line of thinking altogether. Even if Tamaki could like him, even if Tamaki did like him, there was still so many things that could go wrong. Then there was Haruhi.  Kyoya couldn’t compete with Haruhi and it would be different if it was a matter of physically not being able to compete but simply being outclassed was, and this was, this was no.

This was unacceptable.

And then what if they did get together? What would that mean? For their future? What if they broke up?

Did Tamaki even have experience dating people? What if he did? What if he had experience and he expected Kyoya to have experience?

Or what if he didn’t have experience but he was swept up some whirlwind of romance and wanted to take this fast and Kyoya was just coming to terms with being gay and Tamaki, who knows what Tamaki would expect of him.

This was too close to home. It was one thing when everything was theoretical and ambiguous and not in the realm of possibility but this…how could he be expected to handle this.

He couldn’t handle this.

“Kyoya? Kyoya?” Tamaki nudged Kyoya’s shoulder and Kyoya stared back up at him. “You…you mean you didn’t know?”

Kyoya blinked.

“But you were always joking about me having a crush on Haruhi, when we first met her, when she was a guy.”

“She was always a girl or sort of she…”

“But I didn’t know that at the time. I thought she was guy. Even if I didn’t know that I had a crush on…I mean, well, okay that’s not the best example. But you still kept joking about all those other things. How I’m so much like so much like Ranka and—”

Tamaki kept talking but Kyoya didn’t process any of it. Kyoya opened his mouth and then closed it. He took a deep breath and tried to refocus on the conversation. Tamaki had his arms crossed and his eyes were narrowed with confusion.

“So you didn’t know I was bi. So with the doujinshi, you weren’t worried about people thinking I had a crush on you were worried about… you worried that someone might guess you were gay, that your father might…” Tamaki’s eyebrows raised in understanding and Kyoya felt a wave of fear overcome him.

“Especially since you were writing the comic…I always thought you were just uncomfortable for my sake, but I suppose I was just being selfish.” Tamaki laughed.

“You think I’m the artist?” Kyoya’s eyes darted from Mori to Tamaki’s lips to his eyes. This was bad. How could Tamaki suddenly just figure out everything in one go? This couldn’t continue.

Tamaki couldn’t find out Kyoya was in love with him. Under no circumstances was that allowed to happen.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. You’re the only one who could have written it, you know?”

Kyoya’s voice caught in his throat.

“I didn’t want to say anything because it was anonymous and I know you don’t want to talk about your art, but it is good. Even if you don’t think so, you’re just being hard on yourself Kyoya, your always downplay your accomplishments and that’s not healthy. It’s a serious problem and medical—“”

It was like Kyoya had unleashed a monster. As if, by revealing one small fact he had completely removed his mask and opened up all his secrets for Tamaki to see.

“Anyway, as you can see, it all turned out fine, there’s no reason for you to worry. My driver is waiting.” Kyoya fled the room before Tamaki suddenly became perceptive again.

He practically dived into the car when he saw it. Kyoya tapped his finger on his seat incessantly all the way home and when he finally got home he finished all the little chores that he had to get done. With his desk knew reorganized he wrote more of the doujinshi and decidedly didn’t think about the possible future’s Tamaki and he might or might not have.

He most certainly didn’t think about French marriage laws, the fact that he would be studying abroad next year, and his own sexual and romantic inexperience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shocking I know. I do have a tumblr in care you guys want to talk to me [HERE](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyouya and Haruhi have Real Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is approaching. If you have any last minute advice or constructive criticism, (or praise), now is the time to leave it. Even though the story is finished, I will still listen to your opinions, whether you leave them here or on my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)

Kyoya awoke on Saturday to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Blearily, he grabbed it and squinted, searching for his glasses with his free hand. When he saw it was Tamaki he panicked.  He’d manage to avoid talking to Tamaki about anything personal yesterday, but he wasn’t at all sure if he could do that today.

Kyoya woke up immediately, dressed as fast as he could and bolted out of his room. He hunt down his driver and demanded to be driven to the Fujioka’s. He left his cell phone behind.

He couldn’t be here when Tamaki called again.

The ride wasn’t very long, but it was tiring. It was 9:30 and Kyoya hadn’t been up this early on a weekend in a while.

Yawning he got out of the car. He told his driver he’d call when he was ready to be picked up.

He hoped Haruhi was home, since he hadn’t phone ahead, but if she wasn’t, a pleasant chat with Ranka wouldn’t be so bad. Actually, they might have a few more things to talk about.

Unless they were both out. Kyoya frowned.  He walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door.

Haruhi answered the door, thick plastic shopping bags under her arm. She blinked. “What are you doing here senpai? Is Tamaki with you?” She peered around outside, annoyance evident on her face.

“No, I simply thought we could…hang out.”

Haruhi stared at him and waited. Kyoya tried not to look awkward.

“I was going to go grocery shopping,” Haruhi shrugged. “I guess you can tag along.”

Kyoya nodded and waited for Haruhi to gather up her things before they headed off. The silence was amicable. The day was warm and bright, but not humid or overbearing. Kyoya took a few deep breaths.

“Was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?” Haruhi asked. The commoner neighbourhood was surprisingly quiet given how many people must live here. “Is this about Tamaki?”

Kyoya frowned. Not everything was about Tamaki.

“This is about Tamaki, isn’t it?”

“No, no it isn’t.”

“Also I’ve been meaning to ask if you were the one writing all the doujinshi.”

Had he really been this obvious the entire time? “Why would you think that?” Kyoya stared straight ahead, his voice monotone.

“Well, at first I didn’t. But you wrote Tamaki really well, and all the facts about his mother and his life…none of the girls would have known that.”

“What makes up think those facts are true?”

“Well, I do know that you wouldn’t have published the doujinshi if it had a bunch of fake facts in it. There would be no…merit in having people believe lies about Tamaki. Especially when those facts made Tamaki seem like a dork.”

Kyoya sighed.

“I don’t think the others know though.”

This conversation wasn’t going the way he had intended. Kyoya adjusted his glasses and fought back a yawn. “This wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

Haruhi nodded. “So you did want to talk about Tamaki.”

Kyoya glared at her as they turned the corner and the grocery store came into view. “I have other things going on in my life besides Tamaki, you know.”

“Did you want to talk about them?”

Kyoya rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. The ambient noise was getting louder the closer they got to the store.

“Your feelings for Tamaki are pretty clear in the doujinshi.”

Kyoya turned to her.

“Well, the frustration, the inability to decide what to do. You’re the one who wrote it so I figured that—”

“I wasn’t the one who wanted to draw a comic about Tamaki and I in a romantic relationship.”

“No, but you did end up writing about what would happen if you wanted a romantic relationship with Tamaki.” Haruhi turned to look at him. “The fact that you like him is obvious for reasons not in the douhinshi.”

Kyoya crossed his arms. “I fail to see how—”

“You should tell him.”

“What—”

“You should tell him how you feel.”

They entered the grocery store and Kyoya lowered his voice unnecessarily. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where you keep getting these ideas—” Haruhi narrowed her eyes at him. “But don’t _you_ have a crush on him? Wouldn’t it be counterproductive to recommend that I confess to him?”

“I think it’s important to be honest with people. And I don’t think you should tell Tamaki you like him for him. You should tell Tamaki you like him because it would ease your mind. It’ll be great to get it off your chest.”

“You haven’t done it.”

“I will.”

Kyoya opened his mouth to protest.

“Now go get eggs.”

“Excuse me?”

Haruhi picked up a shopping basket and handed it to Kyoya, then picked up another one for herself.

“You were the one who agreed to come with me. You might as well make yourself useful; I need a dozen white eggs. Try to get something on sale.” Haruhi headed over to the produce section.

Kyoya paused. Where were the eggs anyway? And was he seriously going to actually help Haruhi grocery shop? Like a commoner?

Sighing Kyoya wandered aimlessly down an aisle. Eggs had to be refrigerated so they’d probably be stored in one of those freezer things. He looked around, the plastic basket handle sticky with sweat.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about all this. All this heart to heart conversations and letting people know him. He wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was…

“You’re afraid of being rejected.” Kyoya’s father’s words echoed in his head.

When he did re-join Haruhi with the eggs she inspected them immediately. “I suppose these’ll do.” She put them in the basket and started toward the meat section. Kyoya followed.

What was he supposed to say to Haruhi anyway? “I think I’m a bad person and don’t want to be?” That would be ridiculous.

Kyoya crossed his arms instead. “Do you ever think you were wrong about me? When you said you thought I was nice?”

“No.”

Kyoya opened his mouth, then closed it. He swallowed. “Even after everything I’ve done?”

Haruhi picked up some packaged chicken and inspected the price.

“I think you do a lot of things that are probably bad. But you also do a lot of things that are nice. The good things don’t erase the bad things, but the bad things don’t cancel out the good things either. And besides, you do a lot of nice things when your guard is down. You just went and got me eggs, even though you didn’t have to.” Haruhi put the chicken in her basket and then looked at some beef.

“I also believe I threatened to use a police force to hunt you down and prevent you leaving the country.”

“Yes, but you didn’t mean it. And even though threatening people isn’t nice, like I said, it doesn’t erase the nice things you did do. Finding Tamaki’s mother, stopping the newspaper club, letting him win those races, indulging him, or standing up for me at the expo last year, or letting me know whenever the twins or Tamaki plan on making me wear something ridiculous, or that time you all wore those huge dresses to stop me from go to Lobellia,” Haruhi chuckled. “And I’m sure there’s a lot of other nice stuff you do for people too, but you don’t let anyone know you do it. The thing is Kyoya, if you want to be nicer, you can always just be nicer more often. ”

Kyoya didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think that everyone is divided up into ‘bad person’ or ‘good person.’ I think that being the person you are is a decision you make everyday. Nothing is stopping you from doing what you want. There isn’t anything inherent that makes it impossible for you to be anything you want to be.”

Haruhi was still selecting beef, but Kyoya was staring past her.

“All right.”

Haruhi didn’t seem to be listening.

“I also need 1% milk if you could get that.” Kyoya helped her with the rest of her grocery shopping, thinking about what she had said.

When they got back to her house he offered to help her put things anyway, though he knew she’d decline since he didn’t know where anything was supposed to go. Kyoya didn’t bring up his possible depression and they didn’t talk any more about Tamaki, but they did talk.

They talked about their mothers and their favourite middle school books, their preferred ways to study and their ambitions for the future. Kyoya talked about Harvard and independence, and Haruhi talked about Ouran and community.

Kyoya found himself smiling and laughing, happy even when he had to eat something home cooked that Haruhi had prepared.

He used the Fuijoka’s house phone to call his driver and by the time he got home (right before dinner) he had forgotten that his whole reasons for visiting Haruhi.

He forgot until he looked at the 14 voicemails and 37 text messages his friend had left him.

He looked over some of the text messages.

 _Heyyyy Kyoyaaa we shud do sumting_ (*✧×✧*)

 _KYOOOYA where ARE U?_ s(・｀ヘ´・;)ゞ

 _R u avoiding me?_ （ﾉ´д｀）

_You’re at Haruhi’s? Okay we’ll do something else later_

_I’m sorry. This isn’t related-I. I guess I never realized that you probably felt like I was ditching you for Haruhi. I know you’re not doing that now, and I wouldn’t ever do that intentionally, but I think I get how you must feel sometimes now._

Kyoya stared at the last message and frowned. He flopped down on his bed and looked at his phone. Half the time, receiving text messages from Tamaki made him want to kill someone, but now he just felt … sad?

_We can do something tomorrow_

Kyoya texted back and looked over to his desk where various bits of work and the doujinshi were waiting for him.

He e-mailed Renge, telling her he wasn’t going to the sell any more doujinshi. He lay in his bed and wondered about what his father had said. If writing or drawing might be cathartic. Finishing the doujinshi might be therapeutic, even if there was no one there to see it.

Kyoya thought about tomorrow, thought about Tamaki and confessing, thought about Haruhi and competing. Would it just be better to let her win? To see her and Tamaki together? They’d make the better couple, they could get married and live normally and there was no way Kyoya could compete with her really.

“I’m surprised you’d give up so easily.” The words came back to Kyoya suddenly. Words from years ago. Words in a different context, about a completely different situation. And yet, Tamaki would have said the same thing now.

Kyoya groaned. There would be no benefit in pursuing a relationship with Tamaki, even if Tamaki accepted, which was unlikely at best. They had their families reputations to think of, and even if Kyoya would be discreet the risk was too big.

“High risk, high reward.”

Kyoya bit his lip and prepared for supper, still undecided about what he was going to do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's over! Done! What was your favourite part? What would you like to see more of from me? You can let me know here on on my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com) or you can even talk to me about your newest fandom. 
> 
> Also, there's some artwork of this fic by a very talented artist 
> 
> http://legfish.tumblr.com/post/107471605131/has-gay-breakdown-in-my-best-friends-bathroom-bc

 

Tamaki was early.

Kyoya groaned and tried to nuzzle his face further into his pillow, ignoring his friend’s gentle shaking. Tamaki was supposed to come over today at 12. Kyoya’s alarms had been set to wake him up by 11:30, but the first one hadn’t even gone off yet.

“C’mon Kyoya, I had a great idea of how we were going to spend our time! You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

Kyoya closed his eyes tighter, but Tamaki just kept shaking him. Kyoya opened his eyes and glared, but while Tamaki flinched, he didn’t back down.

“It’s 10:15! It’s not that early, you have to get up!" Tamaki climbed into Kyoya’s bed and tried to turn him so they were facing.

“You’re two hours early,” Kyoya said, but his voice was sleep rough and sounded more like a growl.

“Well that was necessary!”

Kyoya tried to shove Tamaki away, but Tamaki remained firmly on the bed, grabbing Kyoya’s forearm. Tamaki tried to pull him out of bed.

Kyoya resisted, but Tamaki was stronger and a lot more awake. Instead of getting out of bed gracefully Kyoya flopped onto the floor and considered staying there and falling back to sleep, but then Tamaki pulled him up and sat Kyoya down on his bed. Tamaki handed him a shirt and Kyoya blinked down at it.

Then he looked for Tamaki who was downstairs rummaging in Kyoya’s dresser. Tamaki marched back up the stairs, handed Kyoya more clothes, and then clasp and unclasped his hands repeatedly.

“Get dressed _mon ami_ we have a big day ahead of us.”

“Why French?” Kyoya said before he could stop himself or form a more coherent sentence. Tamaki’s mood deflated. Kyoya stood up. “Why do you occasionally say certain words in French if you know them in Japanese.”

“For effect!” Tamaki smiled and Kyoya went to his en suite to change and brush his teeth. Then he splashed cold water on his face for another fifteen minutes before emerging. Tamaki was lying in his bed, flipping through a book.

He looked far too comfortable.

“I’ll have to call the maids for something to eat so—”

“Nonsense Kyoya!” Tamaki sprung to his feet. “We’re going out, I thought brunch would be best start to our day!” Tamaki’s eyes sparked and Kyoya’s heart sank.

“We’re not having brunch at some commoner’s café.”

“Even better! In honour of our upcoming murder mystery ball—”

“No.” Kyoya rubbed his eyes and then realized his glasses were still on his bedside table.

“It’ll be perfect.” Tamaki grabbed onto to Kyoya’s arm and pulled. “We’ll get to see how a murder mystery is really done! And we get to eat! They only had brunch and dinner and I figure we should see the first one for fun and then the last for a more detailed analysis and in-between we can go the commoner’s cinemas and see a movie and—”

“No.” Kyoya yawned and Tamaki’s grip on his bicep tightened. His fingers were sweaty and slid back and forth along Kyoya’s skin as they talked.

Tamaki whined and looked at Kyoya with his best puppy dog eyes. Being far sighted Kyoya could see his expression in it’s entirety. He stared back at Tamaki, too alert to give in, but not alert enough to think of something to say.

He stared at Tamaki’s mouth. Kyoya licked his lips and then froze; panic beginning to seep into him.

Kyoya swallowed and tired to pull away, but Tamaki’s sweaty hands held firm.

“Please Kyoya, just this once. Isn’t being together enough, no matter what we do?”

Kyoya shivered and tried to move away. This time Tamaki let go, choosing instead to flop back on Kyoya’s bed and pout.

“It’s important research Kyoya!” Tamaki flopped back until his head hit Kyoya’s mattress and his hair was sprawled out around like a lion’s mane.

Kyoya took a deep breath and approached the bed slowly.

“Please Kyoya, I promise it’ll be fun.”

Kyoya sat down next to Tamaki, who turned to him slightly.

“Like the commoner’s expo was fun? I think not.”

Tamaki shifted until his head was practically in Kyoya’s lap and Tamaki’s face was staring up at him. “But this time it’ll just be us. Just you and me.”

Tamaki smiled and Kyoya’s heart rate sped up. The weight of Tamaki’s head on his thigh felt enormous. The pressure and the heat felt scalding.

“Haruhi has a crush on you.”

Tamaki blinked. “It’s not nice to spread rumours.”

“It’s not a rumour, she told me. She…wants to tell you herself of course, but was afraid you were too dense to understand it. You should talk to her about it, since you have feelings for her.” What was Kyoya doing?

Tamaki furrowed his brow.

“Was that what you were talking about with her yesterday?”

“Yes.”

Tamaki opened and then closed his mouth in thought.

“I did promise I was going to try and be more conscientious of you and try not to ditch you for Haruhi. If this is some kind of test where you think I’m going to leave—”

“It isn’t,” Kyoya moved to adjusted his glasses before remembering he wasn’t wearing them. “It’s the truth.”

“Well, I’m still not going to leave. You’re my best friend and I want o spend time with _you._ ”

Kyoya swallowed.

“I don’t want you to think that Haruhi, or any other girls take presence over you.” Tamaki frowned. “I, I guess since I didn’t know you were gay I didn’t really think about it, about how you might think I prioritize the host club instead of you—”

“I don’t think that.” Kyoya said quietly. He was starting to wake up more now, though he still wasn’t sure what to do.

“Good. Because you’re first you know. You’re my number one!” Tamaki winked and smiled and Kyoya felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “I mean it, you’re my partner in everything Kyoya, I can’t imagine what next year’s going to be like when you go away.”

Kyoya thought about Tamaki’s host club family.

“That’s because you need me to take care of you.”

“No I don’t.”

“That’s why I’m the wife isn’t it? Because you need me to take care of everything while you—”

“That’s not why you’re the wife! And that’s a sexist way to look at things since—”

“Then why am I the wife?” Kyoya asked. “Haruhi, the girl you like, is your daughter, but I’m your wife? I’m not a girl Tamaki. Wouldn’t it just make more sense for us both to be the fathers?”

Tamaki squirmed, each movement felt acutely on Kyoya’s thigh.

“It-It’s just—”

“The host club isn’t going to break up just because you have feeling for someone, didn’t we try and prove that to you already? You don’t have to pretend Haruhi’s your daughter when you would rather she be the wif—”

“No!” Tamaki used his arms to set himself a little higher, off Kyoya’s thigh. “I don’t want her to replace you, it’s…”

Kyoya sighed. His stomach hurt and he was hungry, this was not the time to confess. Whatever Haruhi said wasn’t feasible now. Maybe she would pay him back for telling Tamaki about her feelings?

“You’re the…” Tamaki looked uncharacteristically serious. “You’re the mother because my mother was the one person in my life you never left me. Who was always there for me no matter what. It’s a very important role Kyoya, and it’s, it’s not something Haruhi can—”

“So I’m like a mother to you?”

“No you’re like a mother to our children!”

“I’m hardly like a mother to anyone! If anyone mothers the twins it’s certainly you, I’m not anything close to a wife, I’d make a horrible wife—“”

“I think you’d be great as my wife, I, that’s why I thought you’d be my—”

“But I’m not a girl Tamaki.” Kyoya narrowed his eyes. “You’re bisexual right? So why are you trying to make all our interactions fit into this strange heterosexual model, I can’t be your wife, or like a wife to you because I’m not a girl. If you want us to be parents of the host club that’s one thing, but then why are you making me a girl? Wouldn’t I just be your husband?”

“I…” Tamaki trailed off. He wasn’t really looking at Kyoya. “Because, because well, it’d be better, if my feelings didn’t get in the way of anything to just, to just you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tamaki sat fully up on the bed.

“Are-Are we going to the murder brunch or not? I mean the murder mystery brunch!”

Kyoya frowned. He sighed and stood up from the bed. Picking up his glasses.

“I just meant,” Tamaki ran a hand through his hard. “That if I said you were my husband people might think we were in a real relationship. You know? Or, or something. It, it was mostly subconscious, erm, I, since I didn’t know I was b…” Tamaki’s voice sounded high and fake and Kyoya wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth. “Everyone knows you’re not a girl so us being the mother and the father is obviously fa…fake.”

Tamaki scratched the back of his head. Kyoya stared. Had Tamaki already figured out about Kyoya and…no. No there was absolutely no way.

“Since I like guys, I just, I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

Of course.

“Still, why would you pick me as your spouse?”

“Oh, that,” Tamaki laughed, but it sounded forced. “Well, we work so great together, it’s not difficult picturing us as a couple I guess.”

Kyoya disagreed. Kyoya disagreed wholeheartedly.

“We should just get brunch anyway, times a wasting c’mon.” Tamaki pulled Kyoya by the hand leading him out of the room, out of his house and into a car. Tamaki didn’t still need to be holding Kyoya’s hand in the car, but he didn’t let go.

The driver’s partition was up and Kyoya was sure no one could hear them. But what was he supposed to say? Admit he couldn’t see them as a couple? That would definitely give Tamaki the wrong idea and confessing, if he was ever going to, would be almost impossible.

The brunch past in a haze, but Tamaki seemed to enjoy himself, making copious notes and clapping along at the appropriate moments. Kyoya was thankful to be finished and by the time they were sitting in a movie theatre Kyoya was grateful, despite the questionable seats and the loud slurping nose coming form Tamaki’s drink.

They were the only ones in the theatre and were seated at the very back. Tamaki’s eyes were glued to the screen, but Kyoya wasn’t paying attention.

Kyoya had his arm on their shared armrest and Tamaki’s forearm kept brushing his every so often. Kyoya was still tired from getting up early and tired from their conversation and tired from everything that had happen. He could use some time to relax.

The murder mystery dinner was slightly different then the brunch and while Kyoya did write down notes he also spent a lot of time talking to Tamaki about nonsense.

By the time they arrived back at Kyoya’s it was late and Kyoya had half a mind to ask Tamaki to leave. Instead, he filed his notes away and watched Tamaki out of the corner of his eye as he approached Kyoya’s desk.

Tamaki spotted the doujinshi, the unpublished pages that were for Kyoya’s eyes only, and glanced over them.

Kyoya watched him and wondered if he should stop him. Instead Kyoya sat on his bed and rubbed his face. He lay down and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of Tamaki turning pages.

Kyoya still had to finish _The Lake_ but he’d gotten his other homework done yesterday.

Kyoya sighed and wondered how long it would take him to fall asleep. He was still fully clothed and falling asleep in such attire would be unbecoming, but he was exhausted and he wasn’t about to change into his pyjamas while Tamaki was still here.

“Are you going to publish the rest?” Tamaki asked.

“No.” Kyoya kept his eyes closed, but he could hear Tamaki’s footsteps towards him and feel the slight movement of Tamaki sitting down on the bed.

“Was there something specific you were trying to say? By finishing it, I mean.”

Ah, there it was.

Kyoya kept his eyes closed and contemplated his options.

“I was serious earlier about Haruhi having feelings for you.”

“I, I wasn’t asking about that.” Tamaki’s voice sounded small.

“I know. I just thought you should also know that I wasn’t trying to dissuade you form confessing to her. You both get along well and she would be a good match for you.”

“Who-Who said I had feelings for Haruhi?”

Kyoya opened one eye and raised his eyebrow. Tamaki was looking at his hands, face slightly red.

“Well, I mean, I suppose there is a possibility I might have feelings for her.”

Kyoya closed his eyes again.

“Then you should tell her.”

“I…What about you?”

“I don’t have feelings for Haruhi, I’m gay.”

“No-No I meant, if you had feelings for anyone. At all. Or if you would tell him. Since, in the doujinshi you—”

“You’re wondering if I have a crush on you?”

Tamaki squeaked and tried to cover it up with a cough, but failed. Kyoya took a deep breath. His neck was getting stiff from where he was lying. His shoulders will felt tense.

High risk, high reward. The words kept repeating themselves in him mind. Haurhi’s advice, his sister’s advice, his father’s word. But what was he really going to do?

He thought about Tamaki, wondered about things from his perspective. The girl he liked had feelings for him, but instead Tamaki was spending time wondering about his best friend.

“I don’t know why you’d be so concerned about it.”

“I didn’t say I was concerned! I was just curious.”

“More curious than you are about Haruhi, the girl you admitted having feeling for, returning your feelings?”

“I well—”

“If you’re trying to avoid your own feelings, I can’t say the way you’re going about it will be very effective.”

“I can talk to Haruhi later. Right now I’m talking to you.”

“Talking about whether or not I have feelings for you.”

“Well, you still haven’t said no!”

“Do you want me to say ‘no’?”

Tamaki paused. Kyoya could hear him shift and make humming noises. He opened an eye and saw Tamaki’s whole face flushed red and his fingers idly toying with the hem of his shirt.

“What would happen if I said no? Nothing. What would happen if I said yes? Nothing. Nothing would change so I don’t see the point in answering.”

“Things would change.”

“What things?”

“Things…”

“Well, I’d rather not strain our relationship either from you trying to convince me to have a crush on you or by you awkwardly provoking any crush I did have on you.”

“I wouldn’t do that! If you had a crush on me, I would be very respectful about it.”

Kyoya said nothing. Instead he thought about his positive qualities, the lengths he was willing to go for his friends, his business savvy thinking, his discretion and ability to keep secrets. Tamaki was his friend, so there must be enough positive qualities in Kyoya for that at least.

“And, if you didn’t have a crush on me, I wouldn’t assume that you could necessarily and try to make you have one, on me.”

“Seems like what you did with Haruhi. And every other girl who doesn’t particularly like you.”

“That’s-that’s different.”

Kyoya sighed. He opened his eyes and sat up, facing Tamaki.

“We should just leave it. It’s pretty late, if you aren’t going to suggest something else for us to do, you might as well go home.”

“Well, okay, but if you did have a crush on me, I just think it would be best for you to tell me.”

“Why are you so consumed with the possibility that I have feelings for you? Why do you want me to? How could it possibly benefit either of us in any way!?”

Tamaki opened his mouth and then closed it. Some of the colour drained from his face.

“Well there would be the emotional benefit, it’s best to be honest with people you know.”

Kyoya paused and furrowed his brows. There was something about Tamaki he was missing. Tamaki placed his hand on the bed, his pinky fingers just an inch from Kyoya’s.

Kyoya thought about the arm linking and overt physical contact, the check nuzzling and the sharing a bed and the holding hands and the foot nudges under the kotatsu. He thought about Tamaki being careful so no one thought they were a couple, so no one thought Tamaki had feelings for him, even though he didn’t do the same with Haruhi, even though everyone also perceived her as a boy.

Did Tamaki link arms with other people? Sleep in their beds and massage their shoulders? Kyoya had never really considered it. Had always taken it for granted, after all, why should Kyoya be so special?

“It’s just in the doujinshi, it, well it seems very much like you, and I thought, that maybe I was just being egotistical before, when I thought you had a crush on me, but maybe I wasn’t being egotistical so I was just wondering.” Tamaki smiled at Kyoya briefly and then avoided eye contact.

“You want me to have a crush on you.” It was not a question.

“Well, maybe a little. It’d—”

“Dozens of girls in the host club are in love with you—”

“But I don’t—”

“But you don’t care about them being in love with you, you just want to make them happy, fine. But Haruhi’s in love with you, and you have a crush on her and you’re still sitting here wanting _me_ to have a crush on you on top of everything.”

Tamaki opened his mouth and then closed it. Kyoya watched him swallow. Kyoya stood up and Tamaki did too. He couldn’t possibly fathom Tamaki’s motivations. A lot of things seemed to click into place, but Kyoya still didn’t understand why.

“Well, congratulations on always getting what you want.” Kyoya said as he head into the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower, I was planning on one this morning before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Kyoya closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of his bathtub, taking deep breaths. This didn’t feel better at all. This wasn’t like telling Tamaki he was gay, which had brought feelings of awkward relief and trepidation, this just brought dread and immediate regret.

Tamaki knocked on the door, but Kyoya didn’t move.

“I don’t hear any water running so I thought, maybe you were avoiding me and not really taking a shower?”

Kyoya didn’t answer.

“It…I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Kyoya sighed and then rolled his eyes. He got up and walked towards the door opening it up. Tamaki flung himself at Kyoya, wrapping him in a full body hug, Tamaki’s hair tickling his face.  Tamaki moved and Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s ear pressed against his jaw.

Tamaki’s grip was too tight and it hurt, but his body was a solid warm presence to Kyoya’s front.

“I’m sorry. I just, I don’t want you to be mad at me.” Tamaki rubbed small circles on Kyoya’s back and then everything seemed to click into place.

“I’m not mad.”

Tamaki sighed heavily and buried his face further into the crook of Kyoya’s shoulder. His nose was cold and wet.

“You know, it was always a little weird that when you wanted alone time with Haruhi, your crush, you always invited me along.” Kyoya feel Tamaki’s jaw moving, but his friend didn’t say anything.  “You want me to have a crush on you because you have a crush on me. Just like you wanted Haruhi to have a crush on you, even when you were still pretending to be her ‘father’”

Tamaki’s grip loosened briefly. He pulled back, though he didn’t draw away, instead he seemed to be looking Kyoya in the eye.

“I, well…”

“How long have you had a crush on me for?”

“um…well…”

Kyoya sighed and switched tactics. “How long have you known?”

“Uhh…”

“How long did you think you might have a crush on me?”

“Sort of when I realized I might have feelings for Haruhi? I, well I didn’t even know I was bisexual until then, you, I really thought _you_ knew since you guys also seemed to know about me liking Haruhi.”

Kyoya’s shoulder’s relaxed and he let a wave of relief flow through him.

“Alright.”

“Yup.” Tamaki nodded though their faces were close enough that their noses nearly brushed. “See, because I had a crush on Haruhi when I thought Haruhi was guy and I didn’t feel different when I realized she was a girl, but then, but then…uh…well then when she was girl and the context was different and my brain was saying ‘crush’ but then…that would have implied…”

“So what are you going to do now?” Kyoya raised an eyebrow.

“Well, see, I hadn’t really thought this far ahead.” Tamaki removed one hand from Kyoya’s back to scratch his own neck. “I mean, I maybe thought about mentioning some things about French same-sex marriage laws, but I didn’t think I’d get this far, really. I thought for sure, even if you liked me, you’d give me this huge speech about your dad and your position in the family and homophobia. So now I’m kind of winging it.”

Kyoya smiled and was overcome with the urge to smash his lips against Tamaki’s. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“I take it you intend to pursue me as a romantic option before Haruhi?”

Tamaki’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.”

Kyoya’s pulse suddenly sped up. No, he couldn’t have been wrong he—

“I-I guess. well, I didn’t consider it in those terms before, because I didn’t even know you liked guys! And then I did and didn’t think you liked _me_ and, but yes? I do like Haruhi, but um…”

Kyoya swallowed. One of Tamaki’s hands was still on Kyoya’s back and Kyoya could feel the light pressure. It tickled slight as Tamaki moved his hand closer to Kyoya’s waist.

“Good.” Kyoya cleared his throat again and Tamaki smiled. With his free hand he grabbed at Kyoya’s fingers, twisting them together before leaning in slightly.

There was no smell of salt or sound of crashing waves, it wasn’t cold and the stars weren’t out, but it still felt a lot like how Kyoya had imagined it in the doujinshi.

Tamaki’s smile was just as bright and his eyes were sparkling.

Tamaki touched their noses together and Kyoya’s heart starting trying to claw it’s way out of his chest. Tamaki moved slightly, tilting is head and leaning in for a kiss—

“Ack.”

Tamaki froze. Kyoya coughed, pulled away slightly and then cleared his throat. Tamaki made a move to untangle their fingers, but Kyoya held them firmly.

“It.” Kyoya took a deep breath. “You like me more than Haruhi?”

Tamaki furrowed his brows. “You’re my best friend, of course.”

“No.” Kyoya breath through his nose. “I meant, romantically, you like me more than Haruhi.”

“Kyoya, you’re my best friend. Even if I wasn’t in love with you, I’d still love you. I’ve known you for years. I, I do have feelings for Haruhi but she’s not my best friend. If we look at it in a point-based system—” Kyoya rolled his eyes. “No! If it’s based on points then let’s say you have fifty friend points and Haruhi has ten, even if Haruhi had twenty romance points and you only had ten, I’d still like you the most right?” Tamaki placed his forehead on Kyoya’s. “Besides, the import part isn’t who I love more, the important part is who I choose.” Tamaki leaned in again, but Kyoya turned away. Tamaki frowned and made to pull back but Kyoya’s stopped him.

“Wait. I think that…given circumstance and inexperience it would be best if we were to progress more slowly. And also in secret. For now.”

Tamaki nodded. “Does that mean I can’t kiss you?”

“Not…necessarily.”

Tamaki leaned in and kissed Kyoya’s forehead. Kyoya felt a little feverish, he was light headed, dizzy and little bit nauseous with fear, but he leaned in anyway and pressed his lips to Tamaki’s.

The kiss was terrifying.

Well, actually it was pleasantly soft, and the very idea that he was kissing Tamaki was exhilarating and almost surreal. That didn’t mean he no longer wanted to throw up though, and however soft Tamaki’s lips were Kyoya still needed to sit down. The weight of everything, all the consequences of this decision felt enormous. He had been putting off thinking about his father’s expectation, the implied “It’s all right if you’re gay so long as you’re in the closet” vibe from their conversation so long ago.

There was the rest of their future to think about. The decision to kiss Tamaki was easy, but there was so much that came with it.

Pulling away Kyoya sat on his bathroom floor, the cool tile was nice. Cold things grounded him where warmth seemed to cause him to float off into oblivion.

Kyoya tried to take deep breath and Tamaki sat down next to him, crossing his legs and smiling, dreamily.

“You’re nervous.”

Kyoya didn’t dignify the statement with a response. Instead he pressed his palms into the cold tile, closed his eyes, leaned his back and head against the wall. He tried to stop his whole world from spinning whether it was from possibilities or something else. There were too many variables to consider. Too many things were happening without a plan and Kyoya didn’t always make good choices without a plan. There was marriage and France and scandals and reputation and families and children and joint bank accounts to consider.

He felt Tamaki’s fingers brush his own and he lifted his fingers slightly so Tamaki could intertwine them.

“I always thought that you were cute, you know,” Tamaki kissed Kyoya’s temple, “but I used to tell myself that it was just in a normal non-attraction based way. But then I started thinking of what it would be like to date you. I started thinking about it a lot actually and it seemed really nice. I imagined we’d have this life together and these children and then I meet the twins and…I constructed this like entire family for us.” Kyoya heard Tamaki sigh. “And when, and when Haruhi was there and I thought I might have, for that brief instance I thought I had romantic feelings for her, for him at the time, I just, I just fell back to this plan I had convinced myself was utterly totally platonic, even if I wanted to kiss you sometimes or hold your hand or share a bed, most of those were just…intimate, not really sexual, so it was easy to delude myself, if I didn’t actually examine why I wanted anything…” Tamaki trailed off.

Kyoya sighed and reached his free hand to adjust his glasses on his face, even though his eyes were closed.

“You don’t have to tell me this now.”

“I just, I know your worried about my feeling but I’ve just really really wanted to be your boyfriend for sort of a long time?”

“Well, it’s as I said earlier.”

“Huh?”

“You always get what you wanted.”

Kyoya tried not smile as he felt Tamaki’s shoulder nudge him. He felt a head on his shoulder next, Tamaki’s hair brushing up against his jaw.

Kyoya took a deep breath.

Everything was going to be okay. Kyoya could handle this. Every time Kyoya had thought he couldn’t do something before, he had managed to get through it anyway.

“Sometimes Kyoya, it’s overwhelming how cute you are.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to date me, but if I was mistaken…”

“No, no, no mistake” Kyoya smiled and looked at Tamaki who pressing further into Kyoya’s side. “I…” Tamaki cleared his throat. “I just really like you.”

Kyoya smiled wider.

“Moron.”


End file.
